LITTLE 
EVE  EDGARTON 


ELEANOR  HALLOWELL 
ABBOTT 


T 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Jv 


a~\.  * 


^M" 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 


"  Music!  Flowers  !  Palms  !  Catering  !  Everything  !  " 


BY 

ELEANOR  HALLOWELL  /ABBOTT 

Author  of  "Molly  Make-Believe,"  "The  White 
Linen  Nurse,"  etc. 


With  Illustrations  by 
R.  M.  CROSBY 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1914 


Copyright,  1914,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co. 

Copyright>l913,  1914,  by  The  Ridgway  Company 


Published,  September,  1914 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


A       * 


PAGE 

"  Music  !  Flowers  !  Palms  !  Catering  !  Everything  !  " 

Frontispiece 

"  I  am  riding,"  she  murmured  almost  inaudibly       27 

1  '  I  would  therefore  respectfully  suggest  as  a  special 
topic  of  conversation  the  consummate  cheek 
of  —  yours  truly,  Paul  Reymouth  Edgarton!"  33 

"Your  PAPER-DOLL  BOOK?"  stammered  Barton       77 

"  Don't  delay  me!  "  she  said,  "  I've  got  to  make 

four  hundred  muffins!  "      ....      113 

Suddenly  full  comprehension  broke  upon  him  and 
he  fairly  blurted  out  his  astonishing  infor 
mation  .  .  .  .  .  ...  151 

"  You're  nice,"  he  said.     "  I  like  you!  "  '  .      191 

"Any  time  that  you  people  want  me,"  suggested 
Edgarton's  icy  voice,  "  I  am  standing  here  — 
in  about  the  middle  of  the  floor!  "  .  .  207 


111 


1562962 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 


CHAPTER  I 

you  live  like  such  a  fool  —  of  course 
you  're  bored !  "  drawled  the  Older 
Man,  rummaging  listlessly  through  his  pock 
ets  for  the  ever-elusive  match. 

"  Well,  I  like  your  nerve !  "  protested  the 
Younger  Man  with  unmistakable  asperity. 

"  Do  you  —  really  ?  "  mocked  the  Older 
Man,  still  smiling  very  faintly. 

For  a  few  minutes  then  both  men  re 
sumed  their  cigars,  staring  blinkishly  out 
all  the  while  from  their  dark  green  piazza. 
corner  into  the  dazzling  white  tennis  courts 
that  gleamed  like  so  many  slippery  pine 
planks  in  the  afternoon  glare  and  heat.  The 
month  was  August,  the  day  typically  hand 
some,  typically  vivid,  typically  caloric. 

It  was  the  Younger  Man  who  recovered 
his  conversational  interest  first.  "  So  you 
3 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

think  I  'm  a  fool  ?  "  he  resumed  at  last  quite 
abruptly. 

"  Oh,  no  —  no !  Not  for  a  minute !  "  de 
nied  the  Older  Man.  "  Why,  my  dear  sir,  I 
never  even  implied  that  you  were  a  fool! 
All  I  said  was  that  you  —  lived  like  a  fool !  " 

Starting  to  be  angry,  the  Younger  Man 
laughed  instead.  "  You  're  certainly  rather 
an  amusing  sort  of  chap,"  he  acknowledged 
reluctantly. 

A  gleam  of  real  pride  quickened  most  in 
genuously  in  the  Older  Man's  pale  blue  eyes. 
"  Why,  that 's  just  the  whole  point  of  my 
argument,"  he  beamed.  "  Now  —  you  look 
interesting.  But  you  are  n't !  And  I  — 
don't  look  interesting.  But  it  seems  that  I 
am!" 

"  You  —  you  've  got  a  nerve !  "  reverted 
the  Younger  Man. 

Altogether  serenely  the  Older  Man  began 
to  rummage  again  through  all  his  pockets. 
"  Thank  you  for  your  continuous  compli 
ments,"  he  mused.  "  Thank  you,  I  say. 
Thank  you — very  much.  Now  for  the  very 
first  time,  sir,  it 's  beginning  to  dawn  on  me 
4 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

just  why  you  have  honored  me  with  so 
much  of  your  company  —  the  past  three  or 
four  days.  I  truly  believe  that  you  like  me ! 
Eh?  But  up  to  last  Monday,  if  I  remember 
correctly,"  he  added  drily,  "  it  was  that 
showy  young  Philadelphia  crowd  that  was 
absorbing  the  larger  part  of  your  —  valuable 
attention  ?  Eh  ?  Was  n't  it  ?  " 

"  What  in  thunder  are  you  driving  at  ?  " 
snapped  the  Younger  Man.  "  What  are 
you  trying  to  string  me  about,  anyway? 
What 's  the  harm  if  I  did  say  that  I  wished 
to  glory  I  'd  never  come  to  this  blasted  ho 
tel?  Of  all  the  stupid  people!  Of  all  the 
stupid  places!  Of  all  the  stupid  —  every 
thing!" 

"  The  mountains  here  are  considered 
quite  remarkable  by  some,"  suggested  the 
Older  Man  blandly. 

"  Mountains  ?  "  snarled  the  Younger  Man. 
"  Mountains  ?  Do  you  think  for  a  moment 
that  a  fellow  like  me  comes  to  a  God- for 
saken  spot  like  this  for  the  sake  of  moun 
tains  ?  " 

A  trifle  noisily  the  Older  Man  jerked  his 
5 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

chair  around  and,  slouching  down  into 
his  shabby  gray  clothes,  with  his  hands  thrust 
deep  into  his  pockets,  his  feet  shoved  out  be 
fore  him,  sat  staring  at  his  companion. 
Furrowed  abruptly  from  brow  to  chin  with 
myriad  infinitesimal  wrinkles  of  perplexity, 
his  lean,  droll  face  looked  suddenly  almost 
monkeyish  in  its  intentness. 

"  What  does  a  fellow  like  you  come  to  a 
place  like  this  for  ?  "  he  asked  bluntly. 

"  Why  —  tennis,"  conceded  the  Younger 
Man.  "  A  little  tennis.  And  golf  —  a  little 
golf.  And  — and— " 

"  And  —  girls,"  asserted  the  Older  Man 
with  precipitous  conviction. 

Across  the  Younger  Man's  splendidly 
tailored  shoulders  a  little  flicker  of  self-con 
sciousness  went  crinkling.  "  Oh,  of  course," 
he  grinned.  "  Oh,  of  course  I  've  got  a  va 
cationist's  usual  partiality  for  pretty  girls. 
But  Great  Heavens !  "  he  began,  all  over 
again.  "  Of  all  the  stupid  — !  " 

"  But  you  live  like  such  a  fool  —  of 
course  you  're  bored,"  resumed  the  Older 
Man. 

6 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  There  you  are  at  it  again!  "  stormed  the 
Younger  Man  with  tempestuous  resentment. 

"Why  shouldn't  I  be  '  at  it  again'?" 
argued  the  Older  Man  mildly.  "  Always 
and  forever  picking  out  the  showiest  people 
that  you  can  find  —  and  always  and  forever 
being  bored  to  death  with  them  eventually, 
but  never  learning  anything  from  it  — 
that 's  you!  Now  would  n't  that  just  natu 
rally  suggest  to  any  observing  stranger  that 
there  was  something  radically  idiotic  about 
your  method  of  life?  " 

"But  that  Miss  Von  Eaton  looked  like 
such  a  peach !  "  protested  the  Younger  Man 
worriedly. 

"  That 's  exactly  what  I  say,"  droned  the 
Older  Man. 

"  Why,  she 's  the  handsomest  girl  here !  " 
insisted  the  Younger  Man  arrogantly. 

"  That 's  exactly  what  I  say,"  droned  the 
Older  Man. 

"And  the  best  dresser!"  boasted  the 
Younger  Man  stubbornly. 

"  That 's  exactly  what  I  say,"  droned  the 
Older  Man. 

7 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Why,  just  that  pink  paradise  hat  alone 
would  have  knocked  almost  any  chap  silly," 
grinned  the  Younger  Man  a  bit  sheepishly. 

"Humph!"  mused  the  Older  Man  still 
droningly.  "  Humph !  When  a  chap  falls 
in  love  with  a  girl's  hat  at  a  summer  resort, 
what  he  ought  to  do  is  to  hike  back  to  town 
on  the  first  train  he  can  catch  —  and  go  find 
the  milliner  who  made  the  hat !  " 

"Hike  back  to  —  town?"  gibed  the 
Younger  Man.  "  Ha !  "  he  sneered.  "  A 
chap  would  have  to  hike  back  a  good  deal 
farther  than  '  town  '  these  days  to  find  a  girl 
that  was  worth  hiking  back  for!  What  in 
thunder  's  the  matter  with  all  the  girls?  "  he 
queried  petulantly.  "  They  get  stupider  and 
stupider  every  summer!  Why,  the  peach- 
iest  debutante  you  meet  the  whole  season 
can't  hold  your  interest  much  beyond  the 
stage  where  you  once  begin  to  call  her  by 
her  first  name !  " 

Irritably,  as  he  spoke,  he  reached  out  for 

a  bright-covered  magazine  from  the  great 

pile  of  books  and  papers  that  sprawled  on 

the  wicker  table  close  at  his  elbow.     "  Where 

8 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

in  blazes  do  the  story-book  writers  find  their 
girls  ? "  he  demanded.  Noisily  with  his 
knuckles  he  began  to  knock  through  page 
after  page  of  the  magazine's  big-typed  ad 
vertisements  concerning  the  year's  most 
popular  story-book  heroines.  "  Why  — 
here  are  no  end  of  story-book  girls,"  he 
complained,  "  that  could  keep  a  fellow  guess 
ing  till  his  hair  was  nine  shades  of  white! 
Look  at  the  corking  things  they  say!  But 
what  earthly  good  are  any  of  'em  to  you? 
They  're  not  real !  Why,  there  was  a  little 
girl  in  a  magazine  story  last  month  — ! 
Why,  I  could  have  died  for  her!  But  con 
found  it,  I  say,  what 's  the  use  ?  They  're 
none  of  'em  real !  Nothing  but  moonshine ! 
Nothing  in  the  world,  I  tell  you,  but  just 
plain  made-up  moonshine!  Absolutely  im 
probable  !  " 

Slowly  the  Older  Man  drew  in  his  long, 
rambling  legs  and  crossed  one  knee  adroitly 
over  the  other. 

"  Improbable  —  your  grandmother !  "  said 
the  Older  Man.  "If  there  's  —  one  person 
on  the  face  of  this  earth  who  makes  me  sick 
9 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

it 's  the  ninny  who  calls  a  thing  *  improba 
ble  '  because  it  happens  to  be  outside  his  own 
special,  puny  experience  of  life." 

Tempestuously  the  Younger  Man 
slammed  down  his  magazine  to  the  floor. 

"  Great  Heavens,  man !  "  he  demanded. 
"  Where  in  thunder  would  a  fellow  like  me 
start  out  to  find  a  story-book  girl?  A  real 
girl,  I  mean !  " 

"  Almost  anywhere  —  outside  yourself," 
murmured  the  Older  Man  blandly. 

"  Eh?  "  jerked  the  Younger  Man. 

"  That 's  what  I  said,"  drawled  the  Older 
Man  with  unruffled  suavity.  "  But  what 's 
the  use?"  he  added  a  trifle  more  briskly. 
"  Though  you  searched  a  thousand  years ! 
A  '  real  girl '  ?  Bah !  You  would  n't  know 
a  '  real  girl '  if  you  saw  her!  " 

"  I  tell  you  I  would ! "  snapped  the 
Younger  Man. 

"  I  tell  you  —  you  would  n't !  "  said  the 
Older  Man. 

"  Prove  it !  "  challenged  the  Younger  Man. 

"  It 's  already  proved !  "  confided  the 
Older  Man.  "  Ha !  I  know  your  type !  "  he 
10 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

persisted  frankly.  "  You  're  the  sort  of  fel 
low,  at  a  party,  who  just  out  of  sheer  fool- 
instinct  will  go  trampling  down  every  other 
man  in  sight  just  for  the  sheer  fool- joy  of 
trying  to  get  the  first  dance  with  the  most 
conspicuously  showy-looking,  most  conspicu 
ously  artificial-looking  girl  in  the  room  — 
who  always  and  invariably  '  bores  you  to 
death '  before  the  evening  is  over !  And 
while  you  and  the  rest  of  your  kind  are 
battling  together  —  year  after  year  —  for 
this  special  privilege  of  being  '  bored  to 
death,'  the  '  real  girl '  that  you  're  asking 
about,  the  marvelous  girl,  the  girl  with  the 
big,  beautiful,  unspoken  thoughts  in  her 
head,  the  girl  with  the  big,  brave,  undone 
deeds  in  her  heart,  the  girl  that  stories  are 
made  of,  the  girl  whom  you  call  /  improb 
able  ' —  is  moping  off  alone  in  some  dark, 
cold  corner  —  or  sitting  forlornly  partnerless 
against  the  bleak  wall  of  the  ballroom  —  or 
hiding  shyly  up  in  the  dressing-room  — 
waiting  to  be  discovered !  Little  Miss  Still- 
Waters,  deeper  than  ten  thousand  seas! 
Little  Miss  Gunpowder,  milder  than  the  dusk 
ii 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

before  the  moon  ignites  it!  Little  Miss 
Sleeping-Beauty,  waiting  for  her  Prince!" 

"  Oh,  yes  —  I  suppose  so,"  conceded  the 
Younger  Man  impatiently.  "  But  that  Miss 
Von  Eaton  — " 

"  Oh,  it  is  n't  that  I  don't  know  a  pretty 
face  —  or  hat,  when  I  see  it,"  interrupted  the 
Older  Man  nonchalantly.  "  It 's  only  that 
I  don't  put  my  trust  in  'em."  With  a 
quick  gesture,  half  audacious,  half  apolo 
getic,  he  reached  forward  suddenly  and 
tapped  the  Younger  Man's  coat  sleeve. 
"  Oh,  I  knew  just  as  well  as  you,"  he  af 
firmed,  "  oh,  I  knew  just  as  well  as  you  — 
at  my  first  glance  —  that  your  gorgeous 
young  Miss  Von  Eaton  was  excellingly  hand 
some.  But  I  also  knew  —  not  later  cer 
tainly  than  my  second  glance  —  that  she 
was  presumably  rather  stupid.  You  can't 
be  interesting,  you  know,  my  young  friend, 
unless  you  do  interesting  things  —  and 
handsome  creatures  are  proverbially  lazy. 
Humph!  If  Beauty  is  excuse  enough  for 
Being,  it  sure  takes  Plainness  then  to  feel 
the  real  necessity  for  —  Doing. 

12 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  So,  speaking  of  hats,  if  it 's  stimulat 
ing  conversation  that  you  're  after,  if  you  're 
looking  for  something  unique,  something 
significant,  something  really  worth  while  — 
what  you  want  to  do,  my  young  friend,  is 
to  find  a  girl  with  a  hat  you  'd  be  ashamed 
to  go  out  with  —  and  stay  home  with  her ! 
That 's  where  you  '11  find  the  brains,  the 
originality,  the  vivacity,  the  sagacity,  the 
real  ideas!" 

With  his  first  sign  of  genuine  amuse 
ment  the  Younger  Man  tipped  back  his  head 
and  laughed  right  up  into  the  green-lined 
roof  of  the  piazza..  "  Now  just  whom 
would  you  specially  recommend  for  me?" 
he  demanded  mirthfully.  "  Among  all  the 
feminine  galaxy  of  bores  and  frumps  that 
seem  to  be  congregated  at  this  particular  ho 
tel  —  just  whom  would  you  specially  recom 
mend  for  me?  The  stoop-shouldered, 
school-marmy  Botany  dame  with  her  in 
cessant  garden  gloves  ?  Or  ?  —  Or  —  ?  " 
His  whole  face  brightened  suddenly 
with  a  rather  extraordinary  amount  of 
humorous  malice :  "  Or  how  about  that 
13 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

duddy-looking  little  Edgarton  girl  that  I 
saw  you  talking  with  this  morning?"  he 
asked  delightedly.  "  Heaven  knows  she  's 
colorless  enough  to  suit  even  you  —  with 
her  winter-before-spring-before-summer-be 
fore-last  clothes  and  her  voice  so  meek 
you  'd  have  to  hold  her  in  your  lap  to  hear 
it.  And  her—" 

"That  Muddy-looking'  little  Miss  Ed 
garton  —  meek  ?  "  mused  the  Older  Man 
in  sincere  astonishment.  "  Meek  ?  Why, 
man  alive,  she  was  born  in  a  snow-shack  on 
the  Yukon  River!  She  was  at  Pekin  in 
the  Boxer  Rebellion !  She  's  roped  steers  in 
Oklahoma !  She 's  matched  her  embroid 
ery  silks  to  all  the  suririse  tints  on  the  Hima 
layas  !  Just  why  in  creation  should  she  seem 
meek  —  do  you  suppose  —  to  a  —  to  a  — 
twenty-five-dollar-a-week  clerk  like  your 
self?" 

"  '  A  twenty-five-dollar-a-week  clerk  like 
myself  ? '  "  the  Younger  Man  fairly  gasped. 
"  Why  —  why  —  I  'm  the  junior  partner  of 
the  firm  of  Barton  &  Barton,  stock-brokers! 
Why,  we  're  the  biggest  — " 
14 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  quizzed  the  Older  Man 
with  feigned  surprise.  "  Well  —  well  — 
well!  I  beg  your  pardon.  But  now 
does  n't  it  all  go  to  prove  just  exactly  what 
I  said  in  the  beginning  —  that  it  does  n't  be 
hoove  a  single  one  of  us  to  judge  too  hastily 
by  appearances  ?  " 

As  if  fairly  overwhelmed  with  embar 
rassment  he  sat  staring  silently  off  into 
space  for  several  seconds.  Then  — "  Speak 
ing  of  this  Miss  Edgarton/'  he  resumed 
genially,  "  have  you  ever  exactly  sought  her 
out  —  as  it  were  —  and  actually  tried  to  get 
acquainted  with  her?" 

"  No,"  said  Barton  shortly.  "  Why,  the 
girl  must  be  thirty  years  old !  " 

"  S— o  ?  "  mused  the  Older  Man.  "  Just 
about  your  age?  " 

"  I  'm  thirty-two,"  growled  the  Younger 
Man. 

"  I  'm  sixty-two,  thank  God !  "  acknowl 
edged  the  Older  Man.  "  And  your  gor 
geous  Miss  Von  Eaton  —  who  bores  you  so 
—  all  of  a  sudden  —  is  about  — ?  " 

"  Twenty,"  prompted  the  Younger  Man. 

15 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Poor  —  senile  —  babe,"  ruminated  the 
Older  Man  soberly. 

"  Eh  ?  "  gasped  the  Younger  Man,  edging 
forward  in  his  chair.  "  Eh  ?  '  Senile  '  ? 
Twenty?" 

''Sure!"  grinned  the  Older  Man. 
"  Twenty  is  nothing  but  the  '  sere  and  yellow 
leaf  '  of  infantile  caprice !  But  thirty  is  the 
jocund  youth  of  character!  On  land  or  sea 
the  Lord  Almighty  never  made  anything  as 
radiantly,  divinely  young  as  —  thirty !  Oh, 
but  thirty 's  the  darling  age  in  a  woman ! " 
he  added  with  sudden  exultant  positiveness. 
"  Thirty 's  the  birth  of  individuality !  Thir 
ty  's  the— " 

"  Twenty  has  got  quite  enough  individ 
uality  for  me,  thank  you !  "  asserted  Barton 
with  some  curtness. 

"But  it  hasn't!"  cried  the  Older  Man 
hotly.  "  You  've  just  confessed  that  it 
hasn't!"  In  an  amazing  impulse  of  pro 
test  he  reached  out  and  shook  his  freckled 
fist  right  under  the  Younger  Man's  nose. 
"  Twenty,  I  tell  you,  has  n't  got  any  indi 
viduality  at  all !  "  he  persisted  vehemently. 
16 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Twenty  is  n't  anything  at  all  except  the 
threadbare  cloak  of  her  father's  idiosyn 
crasies,  lined  with  her  mother's  made-over 
tact,  trimmed  with  her  great-aunt  some 
body's  short-lipped  smile,  shrouding  a 
brand-new  frame  of  —  God  knows  what!" 

"Eh?  What?"  questioned  the  Younger 
Man  uneasily. 

"  When  a  girl  is  twenty,  I  tell  you,"  per 
sisted  the  Older  Man  — "  there  's  not  one 
marrying  man  among  us  —  Heaven  help  us ! 
—  who  can  swear  whether  her  charm  is 
Love's  own  permanent  food  or  just  Na 
ture's  temporary  bait!  At  twenty,  I  tell 
you,  there  's  not  one  man  among  us  who  can 
prove  whether  vivacity  is  temperament  or 
just  plain  kiddishness ;  whether  sweetness  is 
real  disposition  or  just  coquetry;  whether 
tenderness  is  personal  discrimination  or  just 
sex;  whether  dumbness  is  stupidity  or  just 
brain  hoarding  its  immature  treasure; 
whether  indeed  coldness  is  prudery  or  just 
conscious  passion  banking  its  fires!  The 
dear  daredevil  sweetheart  whom  you  worship 
at  eighteen  will  evolve,  likelier  than  not,  into 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

a  mighty  sour  prig  at  forty;  and  the  dove- 
gray  lass  who  led  you  to  church  with  her 
prayer-book  ribbons  twice  every  Sunday  will 
very  probably  decide  to  go  on  the  vaudeville 
stage  —  when  her  children  are  just  in  the 
high  school;  and  the  dull-eyed  wallflower 
whom  you  dodged  at  all  your  college  dances 
will  turn  out,  ten  chances  to  one,  the  only 
really  wonderful  woman  you  know !  But  at 
thirty!  Oh,  ye  gods,  Barton!  If  a  girl  in 
terests  you  at  thirty  you  '11  be  utterly  mad 
about  her  when  she  's  forty  —  fifty  —  sixty ! 
If  she  's  merry  at  thirty,  if  she  's  ardent,  if 
she  's  tender,  it 's  her  own  established  merri 
ment,  it 's  her  own  irreducible  ardor,  it 's 
her  —  Why,  man  alive !  Why  —  why  — " 

"  Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake !  "  gasped  Bar 
ton.  "  Whoa  there !  Go  slow !  How  in 
creation  do  you  expect  anybody  to  follow 
you?" 

"  Follow  me  ?  Follow  me  ?  "  mused  the 
Older  Man  perplexedly.  Staring  very  hard 
at  Barton,  he  took  the  opportunity  to  swal 
low  rather  loudly  once  or  twice. 

"  Now  speaking  of  Miss  Edgarton,"  he 
18 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

resumed  persistently,  "  now,  speaking  of 
this  Miss  Edgarton,  I  don't  presume  for  an 
instant  that  you  're  looking  for  a  wife  on 
this  trip,  but  are  merely  hankering  a  bit  now 
and  then  for  something  rather  specially  di 
verting  in  the  line  of  feminine  companion 
ship?" 

"Well,  what  of  it?"  conceded  the 
Younger  Man. 

"This  of  it,"  argued  the  Older  Man. 
"If  you  are  really  craving  the  interesting 
why  don't  you  go  out  and  rummage  around 
for  it  ?  Rummage  around  was  what  I  said ! 
Yes!  The  real  hundred-cent-to-the-dollar 
treasures  of  Life,  you  know,  are  n't  apt  to  be 
found  labeled  as  such  and  lying  round  very 
loose  on  the  smugly  paved  general  highway ! 
And  astonishingly  good  looks  and  astonish 
ingly  good  clothes  are  pretty  nearly  always 
equivalent  to  a  sign  saying,  '  I  've  already 
been  discovered,  thank  you ! '  But  the 
really  big  sport  of  existence,  young  man,  is 
to  strike  out  somewhere  and  discover  things 
for  yourself !  " 

"Is  — it?"  scoffed  Barton. 

19 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  It  is !  "  asserted  the  Older  Man.  "  The 
woman,  I  tell  you,  who  fathoms  heroism  in 
the  fellow  that  every  one  else  thought  was  a 
knave  —  she  's  got  something  to  brag  about ! 
The  fellow  who  's  shrewd  enough  to  spy  un 
utterable  lovableness  in  the  woman  that  no 
man  yet  has  ever  even  remotely  suspected  of 
being  lovable  at  all  —  God !  It 's  like  be 
ing  Adam  with  the  whole  world  virgin !  " 

"  Oh,  that  may  be  all  right  in  theory," 
acknowledged  the  Younger  Man,  with  some 
reluctance.  "  But  — " 

"  Now,  speaking  of  Miss  Edgarton,"  re 
sumed  the  Older  Man  monotonously. 

"  Oh,  hang  Miss  Edgarton !  "  snapped  the 
Younger  Man.  "  I  would  n't  be  seen  talk 
ing  to  her !  She  has  n't  any  looks !  She 
has  n't  any  style !  She  has  n't  any  —  any 
thing!  Of  all  the  hopelessly  plain  girls! 
Of  all  the  —  !" 

"  Now  see  here,  my  young  friend," 
begged  the  Older  Man  blandly.  "  The  fel 
low  who  goes  about  the  world  judging 
women  by  the  sparkle  of  their  eyes  or  the 
pink  of  their  cheeks  or  the  sheen  of  their 
20 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

hair  —  runs  a  mighty  big  risk  of  being  rated 
as  just  one  of  two  things,  a  sensualist  or  a 
fool." 

"Are  you  trying  to  insult  me?"  de 
manded  the  Younger  Man  furiously. 

Freakishly  the  Older  Man  twisted  his 
thin-lipped  mouth  and  one  glowering  eye 
brow  into  a  surprisingly  sudden  and  irre 
sistible  smile. 

"Why  — no,"  he  drawled.  "Under  all 
existing  circumstances  I  should  think  I  was 
complimenting  you  pretty  considerably  by 
rating  you  only  as  a  fool." 

"  Eh  ?  "  jumped  Barton  again. 

"  U-m-m,"  mused  the  Older  Man  thought 
fully.  "  Now  believe  me,  Barton,  once  and 
for  all,  there  's  no  such  thing  as  a  '  hope 
lessly  plain  woman  ' !  Every  woman,  I  tell 
you,  is  beautiful  concerning  the  thing  that 
she  's  most  interested  in !  And  a  man  's  an 
everlasting  dullard  who  can't  ferret  out  what 
that  interest  is  and  summon  its  illuminating 
miracle  into  an  otherwise  indifferent 
face—" 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  sniffed  Barton. 
21 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Lazily  the  Older  Man  struggled  to  his 
feet  and  stretched  his  arms  till  his  bones  be 
gan  to  crack. 

"  Bah !  What 's  beauty,  anyway,"  he 
complained,  "  except  just  a  question  of 
where  Nature  has  concentrated  her  supreme 
forces  —  in  outgrowing  energy,  which  is 
beauty;  or  ingrowing  energy,  which  is 
brains!  Now  I  like  a  little  good  looks  as 
well  as  anybody,"  he  confided,  still  yawning, 
"  but  when  I  see  a  woman  living  altogether 
on  the  outside  of  her  face  I  don't  reckon  too 
positively  on  there  being  anything  very  ex 
citing  going  on  inside  that  face.  So  by  the 
same  token,  when  I  see  a  woman  who  is  n't 
squandering  any  centric  fires  at  all  on  the 
contour  of  her  nose  or  the  arch  of  her  eye 
brows  or  the  flesh-tints  of  her  cheeks,  it 
surely  does  pique  my  curiosity  to  know  just 
what  wonderful  consuming  energy  she  is 
busy  about. 

"  A  face  is  n't  meant  to  be  a  living-room, 

anyway,   Barton,  but  just  a  piazza,  where 

the  seething,  preoccupied  soul  can  dash  out 

now  and  then  to  bask  in  the  breeze  and  re- 

22 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

freshment  of  sympathy  and  appreciation. 
Surely  then  —  it 's  no  particular  personal 
glory  to  you  that  your  friend  Miss  Von 
Eaton's  energy  cavorts  perpetually  in  the 
gold  of  her  hair  or  the  blue  of  her  eyes,  be 
cause  rain  or  shine,  congeniality  or  noncon- 
geniality,  her  energy  has  n't  any  other  place 
to  go.  But  I  tell  you  it  means  some  compli 
ment  to  a  man  when  in  a  bleak,  dour,  work- 
worn  personality  like  the  old  Botany  dame's 
for  instance  he  finds  himself  able  to  lure  out 
into  occasional  facial  ecstasy  the  amazing 
vitality  which  has  been  slaving  for  Science 
alone  these  past  fifty  years.  Mushrooms 
are  what  the  old  Botany  dame  is  interested 
in,  Barton.  Really,  Barton,  I  think  you  'd 
be  surprised  to  see  how  extraordinarily 
beautiful  the  old  Botany  dame  can  be  about 
mushrooms!  Gleam  of  the  first  faint 
streak  of  dawn,  freshness  of  the  wildest 
woodland  dell,  verve  of  the  long  day's  stren 
uous  effort,  flush  of  sunset  and  triumph, 
zeal  of  the  student's  evening  lamp,  pucker 
ing,  daredevil  smile  of  reckless  experi 
ment  — " 

23 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Say !  Are  you  a  preacher  ?  "  mocked 
the  Younger  Man  sarcastically. 

"  No  more  than  any  old  man,"  conceded 
the  Older  Man  with  unruffled  good-nature. 

"  Old  man  ?  "  repeated  Barton,  skeptic 
ally.  In  honest  if  reluctant  admiration  for 
an  instant,  he  sat  appraising  his  compan 
ion's  extraordinary  litheness  and  agility. 
"Ha!"  he  laughed.  "It  would  take  a 
good  deal  older  head  than  yours  to  discover 
what  that  Miss  Edgarton's  beauty  is ! " 

"  Or  a  good  deal  younger  one,  perhaps," 
suggested  the  Older  Man  judicially.  "But 
—  but  speaking  of  Miss  Edgarton  — "  he 
began  all  over  again. 

"  Oh  —  drat  Miss  Edgarton !  "  snarled 
the  Younger  Man  viciously.  "  You  've  got 
Miss  Edgarton  on  the  brain !  Miss  Edgar- 
ton  this!  Miss  Edgarton  that!  Miss  Ed 
garton!  Who  in  blazes  is  Miss  Edgarton, 
anyway  ?  " 

"Miss     Edgarton?     Miss     Edgarton?" 
mused  the  Older  Man  thoughtfully.    "  Who 
is  she?     Miss  Edgarton?     Why  —  no  one 
special  —  except  —  just  my  daughter." 
24 


Like  a  fly  plunged  all  unwittingly  upon  a 
sheet  of  sticky  paper  the  Younger  Man's 
hands  and  feet  seemed  to  shoot  out  sud 
denly  in  every  direction. 

"  Good  Heavens !  "  he  gasped.  "  Your 
daughter  ?  "  he  mumbled.  "  Your  daugh 
ter?"  Every  other  word  or  phrase  in  the 
English  language  seemed  to  be  stricken 
suddenly  from  his  lips.  "  Your  —  your  • — 
daughter  ? "  he  began  all  over  again. 
"  Why  —  I  —  I  —  did  n't  know  your  name 
was  Edgarton!"  he  managed  finally  to  ar 
ticulate. 

An  expression  of  ineffable  triumph,  and 
of  triumph  only,  flickered  in  the  Older 
Man's  face. 

"  Why,  that 's  just  what  I  've  been  say 
ing,"  he  reiterated  amiably.  "  You  don't 
know  anything !  " 

Fatuously  the  Younger  Man  rose  to  his 
feet,  still  struggling  for  speech  —  any  old 
speech  —  a  sentence,  a  word,  a  cough, 
anything,  in  fact,  that  woiild  make  a 
noise. 

"  Well,  if  little  Miss  Edgarton  is  —  little 
25 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Miss  Edgarton,"  he  babbled  idiotically, 
"  who  in  creation  —  are  you  ?  " 

"  Who  am  I  ?  "  stammered  the  Older  Man 
perplexedly.  As  if  the  question  really  wor 
ried  him,  he  sagged  back  a  trifle  against  the 
sustaining  wall  of  the  house,  and  stood  with 
his  hands  thrust  deep  in  his  pockets  once 
more.  "  Who  am  I  ?  "  he  repeated  blandly. 
Again  one  eyebrow  lifted.  Again  one  side 
of  his  thin-lipped  mouth  twitched  ever  so 
slightly  to  the  right.  "  Why,  I  'm  just  a 
man,  Mr.  Barton,"  he  grinned  very  faintly, 
"  who  travels  all  over  the  world  for  the  sake 
of  whatever  amusement  he  can  get  out  of  it. 
And  some  afternoons,  of  course,  I  get  a. 
good  deal  more  amusement  out  of  it  —  than 
I  do  others.  Eh?" 

Furiously  the  red  blood  mounted  into  the 
Young  Man's  cheeks.  "  Oh,  I  say,  Edgar- 
ton  !  "  he  pleaded.  Mirthlessly,  wretchedly, 
a  grin  began  to  spread  over  his  face.  "  Oh, 
I  say !  "  he  faltered.  "  I  am  a  fool !  " 

The  Older  Man  threw  back  his  head  and 
started  to  laugh. 

At  the  first  cackling  syllable  of  the  laugh, 
26 


"  I  am  riding,'1  she  murmured  almost  inaudibly 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

with  appalling  fatefulness  Eve  Edgarton 
herself  loomed  suddenly  on  the  scene,  in  her 
old  slouch  hat,  her  gray  flannel  shirt,  her 
weather-beaten  khaki  Norfolk  and  riding- 
breeches,  looking  for  all  the  world  like  an 
extraordinarily  slim,  extraordinarily  shabby 
little  boy  just  starting  out  to  play.  Up 
from  the  top  of  one  riding-boot  the  butt  of 
a  revolver  protruded  slightly. 

With  her  heavy  black  eyelashes  shadow 
ing  somberly  down  across  her  olive-tinted 
cheeks,  she  passed  Barton  as  if  she  did  not 
even  see  him  and  went  directly  to  her  father. 

"  I  am  riding,"  she  murmured  almost  in- 
audibly. 

"  In  this  heat  ?  "  groaned  her  father. 

"  In  this  heat,"  echoed  Eve  Edgarton. 

"  There  will  surely  be  a  thunder-storm," 
protested  her  father. 

"  There  will  surely  be  a  thunder-storm," 
acquiesced  Eve  Edgarton. 

Without  further  parleying  she  turned  and 
strolled  off  again. 

Just  for  an  instant  the  Older  Man's 
glance  followed  her.  Just  for  an  instant 
29 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

with  quizzically  twisted  eyebrows  his  glance 
flashed  back  sardonically  to  Barton's  suffer 
ing  face.  Then  very  leisurely  he  began  to 
laugh  again. 

But  right  in  the  middle  of  the  laugh  —  as 
if  something  infinitely  funnier  than  a  joke 
had  smitten  him  suddenly  —  he  stopped 
short,  with  one  eyebrow  stranded  half-way 
up  his  forehead. 

"Eve!"  he  called  sharply.  "Eve! 
Come  back  here  a  minute !  " 

Very  laggingly  from  around  the  piazza 
corner  the  girl  reappeared. 

"  Eve,"  said  her  father  quite  abruptly, 
"  this  is  Mr.  Barton !  Mr.  Barton,  this  is 
my  daughter ! " 

Listlessly  the  girl  came  forward  and 
proffered  her  hand  to  the  Younger  Man. 
It  was  a  very  little  hand.  More  than  that, 
it  was  an  exceedingly  cold  little  hand. 

"  How  do  you  do,  sir  ?  "  she  murmured 
almost  inaudibly. 

With  an  expression  of  ineffable  joy  the 
Older    Man    reached    out    and    tapped    his 
daughter  on  the  shoulder. 
30 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  It  has  just  transpired,  my  dear  Eve," 
he  beamed,  "  that  you  can  do  this  young 
man  here  an  inestimable  service  —  tell  him 
something  —  teach  him  something,  I  mean 
—  that  he  very  specially  needs  to  know !  " 

As  one  fairly  teeming  with  benevolence 
he  stood  there  smiling  blandly  into  Barton's 
astonished  face.  "  Next  to  the  pleasure  of 
bringing  together  two  people  who  like  each 
other,"  he  persisted,  "  I  know  of  nothing 
more  poignantly  diverting  than  the  bringing 
together  of  people  who  —  who — "  Mock 
ingly  across  his  daughter's  unconscious 
head,  malevolently  through  his  mask  of  ut 
ter  guilelessness  and  peace,  he  challenged 
Barton's  staring  helplessness.  "  So  — 
taken  all  in  all,"  he  drawled  still  beamingly, 
"  there  's  nothing  in  the  world  —  at  this 
particular  moment,  Mr.  Barton- — that 
could  amuse  me  more  than  to  have  you 
join  my  daughter  in  her  ride  this  after 
noon  ! " 

"Ride  with  me?"  gasped  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton. 

"This    afternoon?"    floundered    Barton. 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"Oh  —  why  —  yes  —  of  course!  I'd  be 
delighted!  I'd  be  — be!  Only  —  !  Only 
I'm  afraid  that  —  !" 

Deprecatingly  with  uplifted  hand  the 
Older  Man  refuted  every  protest.  "  No, 
indeed,  Mr.  Barton,"  he  insisted.  "  Oh,  no 
—  no  indeed  —  I  assure  you  it  won't  incon 
venience  my  daughter  in  the  slightest!  My 
daughter  is  very  obliging!  My  daughter, 
indeed  —  if  I  may  say  so  in  all  modesty' — 
my  daughter  indeed  is  always  a  good  deal  of 
a  —  philanthropist !  " 

Then  very  grandiloquently,  like  a  man  in 
an  old-fashioned  picture,  he  began  to  back 
away  from  them,  bowing  low  all  the  time, 
very,  very  low,  first  to  Barton,  then  to  his 
daughter,  then  to  Barton  again. 

"  I  wish  you  both  a  very  good  after 
noon  ! "  he  said.  "  Really,  I  see  no  reason 
why  either  of  you  should  expect  a  single 
dull  moment !  " 

Before  the  sickly  grin  on  Barton's  face 

his  own  smile  deepened  into  actual  unctu- 

ousness.     But  before  the  sudden  woodeny 

set  of  his  daughter's  placid  mouth  his  unctu- 

32 


I  would  therefore  respectfully  suggest  as  a  special  topic  of  conversation 
the  consummate  cheek  of — yours  truly,  Paul  Reymouth  Edgarton  " 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

ousness  twisted  just  a  little  bit  wryly  on  his 
lips. 

"  After  all,  my  dear  young  people,"  he 
asserted  hurriedly,  "  there  's  just  one  thing 
in  the  world,  you  know,  that  makes  two 
people  congenial,  and  that  is  —  that  they 
both  shall  have  arrived  at  exactly  the  same 
conclusion  —  by  two  totally  different  routes. 
It 's  got  to  be  exactly  the  same  conclusion, 
else  there  is  n't  any  sympathy  in  it.  But 
it 's  got  to  be  by  two  totally  different  routes, 
you  understand,  else  there  is  n't  any  talky- 
talktoit!" 

Laboriously  one  eyebrow  began  to  jerk 
its  way  up  his  forehead,  and  with  a  purely 
mechanical  instinct  he  reached  up  drolly  and 
pulled  it  down  again.  "  So  —  as  the  initial 
test  of  your  mutual  congeniality  this  after 
noon,"  he  resumed,  "  I  would  therefore 
respectfully  suggest  as  a  special  topic  of 
conversation  the  consummate  cheek 
of  —  yours  truly,  Paul  Reymouth  Edgar- 
ton!" 

Starting  to  bow  once  more,  he  backed  in 
stead  into  the  screen  of  the  office  window. 
35 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Without  even  an  expletive  he  turned,  pushed 
in  the  screen,  clambered  adroitly  through 
the  aperture,  and  disappeared  almost  in 
stantly  from  sight. 

Very  faintly  from  some  far  up-stairs  re 
gion  the  thin,  faint,  single  syllable  of  a 
laugh  came  floating  down  into  the  piazza. 
corner. 

Then  just  as  precipitous  as  a  man  steps 
into  any  other  hole,  Barton  stepped  into  the 
conversational  topic  that  had  just  been  so 
aptly  provided  for  him. 

"  Is  your  father  something  of  a  —  of  a 
practical  joker,  Miss  Edgarton  ? "  he  de 
manded  with  the  slightest  possible  tinge  of 
shrillness. 

For  the  first  time  in  Barton's  knowledge 
of  little  Eve  Edgarton  she  lifted  her  eyes  to 
him  —  great  hazel  eyes,  great  bored,  dreary, 
hazel  eyes  set  broadly  in  a  too  narrow  olive 
face. 

"  My  father  is  generally  conceded  to  be 

something  of  a  joker,  I  believe,"  she  said 

dully.     "  But  it  would  never  have  occurred 

to  me  to  call  him  a  particularly  practical 

36 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

one.  I  don't  like  him,"  she  added  without 
a  flicker  of  expression. 

"  I  don't  either !  "  snapped  Barton. 

A  trifle  uneasily  little  Eve  Edgarton 
went  on.  "  Why  —  once  when  I  was  a  tiny 
child — "  she  droned. 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  when  you 
were  a  tiny  child,"  affirmed  Barton  with 
some  vehemence.  "  But  just  this  after 
noon — !  " 

In  striking  contrast  to  the  cool  placidity 
of  her  face  one  of  Eve  Edgarton's  boot- 
toes  began  to  tap-tap-tap  against  the  piazza. 
floor.  When  she  lifted  her  eyes  again  to 
Barton  their  sleepy  sullenness  was  shot 
through  suddenly  with  an  unmistakable 
flash  of  temper. 

"  Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake,  Mr.  Barton !  " 
she  cried  out.  "If  you  insist  upon  riding 
with  me,  could  n't  you  please  hurry  ?  The 
afternoons  are  so  short!" 

"If  I  'insist'  upon  riding  with  you?" 
gasped  Barton. 

Disconcertingly  from  an  upper  window 
the  Older  Man's  face  beamed  suddenly 
37 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

down  upon  him.  "Oh,  don't  mind  any 
thing  she  says,"  drawled  the  Older  Man. 
"  It 's  just  her  cunning,  '  meek '  little 
ways." 

Precipitately  Barton  bolted  for  his  room. 

Once  safely  ensconced  behind  his  closed 
door  a  dozen  different  decisions,  a  dozen 
different  indecisions,  rioted  tempestuously 
through  his  mind.  To  go  was  just  as  awk 
ward  as  not  to  go!  Not  to  go  was  just  as 
awkward  as  to  go!  Over  and  over  and 
over  one  silly  alternative  chased  the  other 
through  his  addled  senses.  Then  just  as 
precipitately  as  he  had  bolted  to  his  room 
he  began  suddenly  to  hurl  himself  into  his 
riding-clothes,  yanking  out  a  bureau  drawer 
here,  slamming  back  a  closet  door  there, 
rummaging  through  a  box,  tipping  over  a 
trunk,  yet  in  all  his  fuming  haste,  his  ra 
ging  irritability,  showing  the  same  fastidi 
ous  choice  of  shirt,  tie,  collar,  that  character 
ized  his  every  public  appearance. 

Immaculate  at  last  as  a  tailor's  equestrian 
advertisement  he  came  striding  down  again 
into  the  hotel  office,  only  to  plunge  most  in- 
38 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

opportunely  into  Miss  Von  Eaton's  languor 
ous  presence. 

"  Why,  Jim ! "  gasped  Miss  Von  Eaton. 
Exquisitely  white  and  cool  and  fluffy  and 
dainty,  she  glanced  up  perplexedly  at  him 
from  her  lazy,  deep-seated  chair.  "  Why, 
Jim!"  she  repeated,  just  a  little  bit  edgily. 
"Riding?  Riding?  Well,  of  all  things! 
You  who  would  n't  even  play  bridge  with  us 
this  afternoon  on  account  of  the  heat! 
Well,  who  in  the  world  —  who  can  it  be 
that  has  cut  us  all  out  ?  " 

Teasingly  she  jumped  up  and  walked  to 
the  door  with  him,  and  stood  there  peering 
out  beyond  the  cool  shadow  of  his  dark- 
blue  shoulder  into  the  dazzling  road  where, 
like  so  many  figures  thrust  forth  all  unwit 
tingly  into  the  merciless  flare  of  a  spot-light, 
little  shabby  Eve  Edgarton  and  three  sweat 
ing  horses  waited  squintingly  in  the  dust. 

"Oh!"  cried  Miss  Von  Eaton. 
"  W-hy ! "  stammered  Miss  Von  Eaton. 
"  Good  gracious ! "  giggled  Miss  Von 
Eaton.  Then  hysterically,  with  her  hand 
clapped  over  her  mouth,  she  turned  and  fled 
39 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

up  the  stairs  to  confide  the  absurd  news  to 
her  mates. 

With  a  face  like  a  graven  image  Barton 
went  on  down  the  steps  into  the  road.  In 
one  of  his  thirty-dollar  riding-boots  a  dis 
concerting  two-cent  sort  of  squeak  merely 
intensified  his  unhappy  sensation  of  being 
motivated  purely  mechanically  like  a  doll. 

Two  of  the  horses  that  whinnied  cor 
dially  at  his  approach  were  rusty  roans. 
The  third  was  a  chunky  gray.  Already  on 
one  of  the  roans  Eve  Edgarton  sat  perched 
with  her  bridle-rein  oddly  slashed  in  two, 
and  knotted,  each  raw  end  to  a  stirrup,  leav 
ing  her  hands  and  arms  still  perfectly  free 
to  hug  her  mysterious  books  and  papers  to 
her  breast. 

"  Good  afternoon  again,  Miss  Edgarton," 
smiled  Barton  conscientiously. 

"  Good  afternoon  again,  Mr.  Barton," 
echoed  Eve  Edgarton  listlessly. 

With  frank  curiosity  he  nodded  toward 
her  armful  of  papers.  "  Surely  you  're  not 
going  to  carry  —  all  that  stuff  with  you  ?  " 
he  questioned. 

40 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Yes,  I  am,  Mr.  Barton,"  drawled  Eve 
Edgarton,  scarcely  above  a  whisper. 

Worriedly  he  pointed  to  her  stirrups. 
"  But  Great  Scott,  Miss  Edgarton !  "  he 
protested.  "  Surely  you  're  not  reckless 
enough  to  ride  like  that  ?  Just  guiding  with 
your  feet  ?  " 

"  I  always  —  do,  Mr.  Barton,"  sing 
songed  the  girl  monotonously. 

"  But  the  extra  horse  ?  "  cried  Barton. 
With  a  sudden  little  chuckle  of  relief  he 
pointed  to  the  chunky  gray.  There  was  a 
side-saddle  on  the  chunky  gray.  "  Who  's 
going  with  us  ?  " 

Almost  insolently  little  Eve  Edgarton 
narrowed  her  sleepy  eyes. 

"  I  always  taken  an  extra  horse  with  me, 
Mr.  Barton —  Thank  you!"  she  yawned, 
with  the  very  faintest  possible  tinge  of  as 
perity. 

"  Oh !  "  stammered  Barton  quite  help 
lessly.  "  O — h !  "  Heavily,  as  he  spoke, 
he  lifted  one  foot  to  his  stirrup  and  swung 
up  into  his  saddle.  Through  all  his  mental 
misery,  through  all  his  physical  discomfort, 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

a  single  lovely  thought  sustained  him. 
There  was  only  one  really  good  riding  road 
in  that  vicinity !  And  it  was  shady !  And, 
thank  Heaven,  it  was  most  inordinately 
short ! 

But  Eve  Edgarton  falsified  the  thought 
before  he  was  half  through  thinking  it. 

She  swung  her  horse  around,  reared  him 
to  almost  a  perpendicular  height,  merged 
herself  like  so  much  fluid  khaki  into  his 
great,  towering,  threatening  neck,  reacted 
almost  instantly  to  her  own  balance  again, 
and  went  plunging  off  toward  the  wild, 
rough,  untraveled  foot-hills  and  —  certain 
destruction,  any  unbiased  onlooker  would 
have  been  free  to  affirm ! 

Snortingly  the  chunky  gray  went  tearing 
after  her.  A  trifle  sulkily  Barton's  roan 
took  up  the  chase. 

Shade?  Oh,  ye  gods!  If  Eve  Edgar- 
ton  knew  shade  when  she  saw  it  she  cer 
tainly  gave  no  possible  sign  of  such  intelli 
gence.  Wherever  the  galloping,  grass- 
grown  road  hesitated  between  green-roofed 
forest  and  devastated  wood-lot,  she  chose 
42 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

the  devastated  wood-lot!  Wherever  the 
trotting,  treacherous  pasture  faltered  be 
tween  hobbly,  rock-strewn  glare  and  soft, 
lush-carpeted  spots  of  shade,  she  chose  the 
hobbly,  rock-strewn  glare!  On  and  on  and 
on!  Till  dust  turned  sweat!  And  sweat 
turned  dust  again!  On  and  on  and  on! 
With  the  riderless  gray  thudding  madly 
after  her!  And  Barton's  sulky  roan  balk 
ing  frenziedly  at  each  new  swerve  and 
turn! 

It  must  have  been  almost  three  miles  be 
fore  Barton  quite  overtook  her.  Then  in 
the  scudding,  transitory  shadow  of  a  growly 
thunder-cloud  she  reined  in  suddenly,  waited 
patiently  till  Barton's  panting  horse  was 
nose  and  nose  with  hers,  and  then,  pushing 
her  slouch  hat  back  from  her  low,  curl- 
fringed  forehead,  jogged  listlessly  along  be 
side  him  with  her  pale  olive  face  turned  in 
quiringly  to  his  drenched,  beet-colored 
visage. 

"  What  was  it  that  you  wanted  me  to  do 
for  you,  Mr.  Barton?"  she  asked  with  a 
laborious  sort  of  courtesy.  "  Are  you  writ- 
43 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

ing  a  book  or  something  that  you  wanted 
me  to  help  you  about?  Is  that  it?  Is  that 
what  Father  meant  ?  " 

"  Am  I  writing  a  —  book  ?  "  gasped  Bar 
ton.  Desperately  he  began  to  mop  his  fore 
head.  "  Writing  a  book  ?  Am  —  I  — 
writing  —  a  —  book  ?  Heaven  forbid !  " 

"What  are  you  doing?"  persisted  the 
girl  bluntly. 

"What  am  I  doing?"  repeated  Barton. 
"  Why,  riding  with  you !  Trying  to  ride 
with  you !  "  he  called  out  grimly  as,  taking 
the  lead  impetuously  again,  Eve  Edgarton's 
horse  shied  off  at  a  rabbit  and  went  sidling 
down  a  sand-bank  into  a  brand-new  area  of 
rocks  and  stubble  and  breast-high  blueberry 
bushes. 

Barton  liked  to  ride  and  he  rode  fairly 
well,  but  he  was  by  no  means  an  equestrian 
acrobat,  and,  quite  apart  from  the  girl's  un 
questionably  disconcerting  mannerisms,  the 
foolish  floppity  presence  of  the  riderless 
gray  rattled  him  more  than  he  could  possi 
bly  account  for.  Yet  to  save  his  life  he 
could  not  have  told  which  would  seem  more 
44 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

childish  —  to  turn  back  in  temper,  or  to  fol 
low  on  —  in  the  same. 

More  in  helplessness  than  anything  else 
he  decided  to  follow  on. 

"  On  and  on  and  on,"  would  have  de 
scribed  it  more  adequately. 

Blacker  and  blacker  the  huddling  thun 
der-caps  spotted  across  the  brilliant,  sunny 
sky.  Gaspier  and  gaspier  in  each  lulling 
tree-top,  in  each  hushing  bird-song,  in  each 
drooping  grass-blade,  the  whole  torrid  earth 
seemed  to  be  sucking  in  its  breath  as  if  it 
meant  never,  never  to  exhale  it  again. 

Once  more  in  the  midst  of  a  particularly 
hideous  glare  the  girl  took  occasion  to  rein 
in  and  wait  for  him,  turning  once  more  to 
his  flushed,  miserable  countenance  a  little 
face  inordinately  pale  and  serene. 

"  If  you  're  not  writing  a  book,  what 
would  you  like  to  talk  about,  Mr.  Barton  ?  " 
she  asked  conscientiously.  "  Would  you 
like  to  talk  about  peat-bog  fossils  ?  " 

"  What  ?  "  gasped  Barton. 

"  Peat-bog  fossils,"  repeated  the  mild  lit 
tle  voice.  "Are  you  interested  in  peat-bog 
45 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

fossils?  Or  would  you  rather  talk  about 
the  Mississippi  River  pearl  fisheries?  Or 
do  you  care  more  perhaps  for  politics? 
Would  you  like  to  discuss  the  relative  fi 
nancial  conditions  of  the  South  American 
republics?  " 

Before  the  expression  of  blank  despair  in 
Barton's  face,  her  own  face  fell  a  trifle. 
"No?"  she  ventured  worriedly.  "No? 
Oh,  I  'm  sorry,  Mr.  Barton,  but  you  see  — 
you  see  —  I  Ve  never  been  out  before  with 
anybody  —  my  own  age.  So  I  don't  know 
at  all  what  you  would  be  interested  in !  " 

"  Never  been  out  before  with  any  one 
her  own  age?"  gasped  Barton  to  himself. 
Merciful  Heavens!  what  was  her  "own 
age  "  ?  There  in  her  little  khaki  Norfolk 
and  old  slouch  hat  she  looked  about  fifteen 
years  old  —  and  a  boy,  at  that.  Altogether 
wretchedly  he  turned  and  grinned  at  her. 

"  Miss  Edgarton,"  he  said,  "  believe  me, 
there  's  not  one  thing  to-day  under  God's 
heaven  that  does  interest  me  —  except  the 
weather ! " 

"  The  weather  ?  "  mused  little  Eve  Ed- 
46 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

garton  thoughtfully.  Casually,  as  she 
spoke,  she  glanced  down  across  the  horses' 
lathered  sides  and  up  into  Barton's  crimson 
face.  "  The  weather?  Oh!  "  she  hastened 
anxiously  to  affirm.  "  Oh,  yes !  The  me 
teorological  conditions  certainly  are  inter 
esting  this  summer.  Do  you  yourself  think 
that  it's  a  shifting  of  the  Gulf  Stream? 
Or  just  a  —  just  a  change  in  the  paths  of 
the  cyclonic  areas  of  low  pressure  ? "  she 
persisted  drearily. 

"  Eh?  "  gasped  Barton.  "  The  weather? 
Heat  was  what  I  meant,  Miss  Edgarton! 
Just  plain  heat!  — DAMNED  HEAT—- 
was  what  I  meant  —  if  I  may  be  so  explicit, 
Miss  Edgarton." 

"  It  is  hot,"  conceded  Eve  apologetically. 

"  In  fact,"  snapped  Barton,  "  I  think  it 's 
the  hottest  day  I  ever  knew !  " 

"  Really  ?  "  droned  Eve  Edgarton. 

"  Really !  "  snapped  Barton. 

It  must  have  been  almost  half  an  hour 
before  anybody  spoke  again.  Then, 
"Pretty  hot,  isn't  it?"  Barton  began  all 
over  again. 

47 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Yes,"  said  Eve  Edgarton. 

"  In  fact,"  hissed  Barton  through 
clenched  teeth,  "  in  fact  I  know  it 's  the  hot 
test  day  I  ever  knew !  " 

"  Really  ?  "  droned  Eve  Edgarton. 

"  Really !  "  choked  Barton. 

Creakily  under  their  hot,  chafing  saddles 
the  sweltering  roans  lurched  off  suddenly 
through  a  great  snarl  of  bushes  into  a  fern- 
shaded  spring-hole  and  stood  ankle-deep  in 
the  boggy  grass,  guzzling  noisily  at  food 
and  drink,  with  the  chunky  gray  crowding 
greedily  against  first  one  rider  and  then  the 
other. 

Quite  against  all  intention  Barton 
groaned  aloud.  His  sun-scorched  eyes 
seemed  fairly  shriveling  with  the  glare. 
His  wilted  linen  collar  slopped  like  a  stale 
poultice  around  his  tortured  neck.  In  his 
sticky  fingers  the  bridle-rein  itched  like  so 
much  poisoned  ribbon. 

Reaching  up  one  small  hand  to  drag  the 
soft  flannel  collar  of  her  shirt  a  little  far 
ther  down  from  her  slim  throat,  Eve  Ed 
garton  rested  her  chin  on  her  knuckles  for 
48 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

an  instant  and  surveyed  him  plaintively. 
"  Are  n't  —  we  —  having  —  an  —  awful 
time  ?  "  she  whispered. 

Even  then  if  she  had  looked  woman-y, 
girl-y,  even  remotely,  affectedly  feminine, 
Barton  would  doubtless  have  floundered 
heroically  through  some  protesting  lie.  But 
to  the  frank,  blunt,  little-boyishness  of  her 
he  succumbed  suddenly  with  a  beatific  grin 
of  relief.  "  Yes,  we  certainly  are !  "  he  ac 
knowledged  ruthlessly. 

"And  what  good  is  it?"  questioned  the 
girl  most  unexpectedly. 

"  Not  any  good !  "  grunted  Barton. 

"  To  any  one  ?  "  persisted  the  girl. 

"  Not  to  any  one !  "  exploded  Barton. 

With  an  odd  little  gasp  of  joy  the  girl 
reached  out  dartingly  and  touched  Barton 
on  his  sleeve.  Her  face  was  suddenly 
eager,  active,  transcendently  vital. 

"  Then  oh  —  won't  you  please  —  please 
—  turn  round  —  and  go  home  —  and  leave 
me  alone?"  she  pleaded  astonishingly. 

"  Turn  round  and  go  home  ?  "  stammered 
Barton. 

49 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

The  touch  on  his  sleeve  quickened  a  lit 
tle.  "  Oh,  yes  —  please,  Mr.  Barton !  "  in 
sisted  the  tremulous  voice. 

"  You  —  you  mean  I  'm  in  your  way  ?  " 
stammered  Barton. 

Very  gravely  the  girl  nodded  her  head. 
"  Oh,  yes,  Mr.  Barton  —  you  're  terribly  in 
my  way/'  she  acknowledged  quite  frankly. 

"  Good  Heavens,"  thought  Barton,  "  is 
there  a  man  in  this?  Is  it  a  tryst?  Well, 
of  all  things !  " 

Jerkily  he  began  to  back  his  horse  out 
of  the  spring-hole,  back  —  back  —  back 
through  the  intricate,  overgrown  pathway 
of  flapping  leaves  and  sharp,  scratchy 
twigs. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  Miss  Edgarton,  to 
have  forced  my  presence  on  you  so ! "  he 
murmured  ironically. 

"  Oh,  it  is  n't  just  you !  "  said  little  Eve 
Edgarton  quite  frankly.  "  It 's  all  Father's 
friends."  Almost  threateningly  as  she 
spoke  she  jerked  up  her  own  horse's  driz 
zling  mouth  and  rode  right  at  Barton  as  if 
to  force  him  back  even  faster  through  the 
50 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

great  snarl  of  underbrush.  "  I  hate  clever 
people ! "  she  asserted  passionately.  "  I 
hate  them  —  hate  them  —  hate  them!  I 
hate  all  Father's  clever  friends !  I  hate  — " 

"  But  you  see  I  'm  not  clever,"  grinned 
Barton  in  spite  of  himself.  "  Oh,  not 
clever  at  all,"  he  reiterated  with  some  grim- 
ness  as  an  alder  branch  slapped  him  sting- 
ingly  across  one  eye.  "  Indeed  — "  he 
dodged  and  ducked  and  floundered,  still 
backing,  backing,  everlastingly  backing  — 
"  indeed,  your  father  has  spent  quite  a  lot 
of  his  valuable  time  this  afternoon  assuring 
me  —  and  reassuring  me  —  that  —  that 
I  'm  altogether  a  fool !  " 

Unrelentingly  little  Eve  Edgarton's 
horse  kept  right  on  forcing  him  back' — • 
back  —  back. 

"  But  if  you  're  not  one  of  Father's  clever 
friends  —  who  are  you  ?  "  she  demanded 
perplexedly.  "  And  why  did  you  insist  so 
on  riding  with  me  this  afternoon?"  she 
cried  accusingly. 

"  I  did  n't  exactly  —  insist,"  grinned 
Barton  with  a  flush  of  guilt.  The  flush  of 
Si 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

guilt  added  to  the  flush  of  heat  made  him 
look  suddenly  very  confused. 

Across  Eve  Edgarton's  thin  little  face  the 
flash  of  temper  faded  instantly  into  mere 
sulky  ennui  again. 

"  Oh,  dear  —  oh,  dear,"  she  droned. 
"  You  —  you  did  n't  want  to  marry  me,  did 
you?" 

Just  for  one  mad,  panic-stricken  second 
the  whole  world  seemed  to  turn  black  before 
Barton's  eyes.  His  heart  stopped  beating. 
His  ear-drums  cracked.  Then  suddenly, 
astonishingly,  he  found  himself  grinning 
into  that  honest  little  face,  and  answering 
comfortably  : 

"  Why,  no,  Miss  Edgarton,  I  had  n't  the 
slightest  idea  in  the  world  of  wanting  to 
marry  you." 

"Thank  God  for  that!"  gasped  little 
Eve  Edgarton.  "  So  many  of  Father's 
friends  do  want  to  marry  me,"  she  confided 
plaintively,  still  driving  Barton  back 
through  that  horrid  scratchy  thicket. 
"  I  'm  so  rich,  you  see,"  she  confided  with 
equal  simplicity,  "  and  I  know  so  much  — 
52 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

there  's  almost  always  somebody  in  Petroza 
vodsk  or  Broken  Hill  or  Bashukulumbwe 
who  wants  to  marry  me." 

"  In  —  where  ?  "  stammered  Barton. 

"  Why  —  in  Russia !  "  said  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton  with  some  surprise.  "  And  Aus 
tralia!  And  Africa!  Were  you  never 
there?" 

"  I  Ve  been  in  Jersey  City,"  babbled  Bar 
ton  with  a  desperate  attempt  at  facetious- 
ness. 

"  I  was  never  there!  "  admitted  little  Eve 
Edgarton  regretfully. 

Vehemently  with  one  hand  she  lunged 
forward  and  tried  with  her  tiny  open  palm 
to  push  Barton's  horse  a  trifle  faster  back 
through  the  intricate  thicket.  Then  once  in 
the  open  again  she  drew  herself  up  with  an 
absurd  air  of  dignity  and  finality  and  bowed 
him  from  her  presence. 

"  Good-by,  Mr.  Barton,"  she  said. 
"  Good-by,  Mr.  Barton." 

"  But  Miss  Edgarton  — "  stammered  Bar 
ton  perplexedly.  Whatever  his  own 
personal  joy  and  relief  might  be,  the  sur- 
53 


rounding  country  nevertheless  was  exceed 
ingly  wild,  and  the  girl  an  extravagantly 
long  distance  from  home.  "  But  Miss  Ed- 
garton — "  he  began  all  over  again. 

"  Good-by,  Mr.  Barton !  And  thank  you 
for  going  home !  "  she  added  conscientiously. 

"  But  what  will  I  tell  your  father?  "  wor 
ried  Barton. 

"  Oh  —  hang  Father,"  drawled  the  indif 
ferent  little  voice. 

"  But  the  extra  horse  ?  "  argued  Barton 
with  increasing  perplexity.  "  The  gray  ? 
If  you  've  got  some  date  up  your  sleeve, 
don't  you  want  me  to  take  the  -gray  home 
with  me,  and  get  him  out  of  your  way?" 

With  sluggish  resentment  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton  lifted  her  eyes  to  his.  "  What  would 
the  gray  go  home  with  you  for  ?  "  she  asked 
tersely.  "  Why,  .how  silly !  Why,  it 's  my 
—  mother's  horse!  That  is,  we  call  it  my 
mother's  horse,"  she  hastened  to  explain. 
"  My  mother 's  dead,  you  know.  She  's  al 
most  always  been  dead,  I  mean.  So  Father 
always  makes  me  buy  an  extra  place  for  my 
mother.  It 's  just  a  trick  of  ours,  a  sort  of 
54 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

a  custom.  I  play  around  alone  so  much 
you  know.  And  we  live  in  such  wild 
places ! " 

Casually  she  bent  over  and  pushed  the 
protruding  butt  of  her  revolver  a  trifle  far 
ther  down  into  her  riding  boot.  "  S'long 
—  Mr.  Barton !  "  she  called  listlessly  over  the 
other,  and  started  on,  stumblingly,  clatter- 
mgly,  up  the  abruptly  steep  and  precipitous 
mountain  trail  —  a  little  dust-colored  gnome 
on  a  dust-colored  horse,  with  the  dutiful 
gray  pinking  cautiously  along  behind  her. 

By  some  odd  twist  of  his  bridle-rein  the 
gray's  chunky  neck  arched  slightly  askew, 
and  he  pranced  now  and  then  from  side  to 
side  of  the  trail  as  if  guided  thus  by  an  in 
visible  hand. 

With  an  uncanny  pucker  along  his  spine 
as  if  he  found  himself  suddenly  deserting 
two  women  instead  of  one,  Barton  went 
fumbling  and  squinting  out  through  the 
dusty  green  shade  into  the  expected  glare 
of  the  open  pasture,  and  discovered,  to  his 
further  disconcerting,  that  there  was  no 
glare  left. 

55 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Before  his  astonished  eyes  he  saw  sun- 
scorched  mountain-top,  sun-scorched  gran 
ite,  sun-scorched  field  stubble  turned 
suddenly  to  shade  —  no  cool,  translucent 
miracle  of  fluctuant  greens,  but  a  horrid, 
plushy,  purple  dusk  under  a  horrid,  plushy, 
purple  sky,  with  a  rip  of  lightning  along  the 
horizon,  a  galloping  gasp  of  furiously  on 
coming  wind,  an  almost  strangling  stench  of 
dust-scented  rain. 

But  before  he  could  whirl  his  horse  about, 
the  storm  broke !  Heaven  fell !  Hell  rose ! 
The  sides  of  the  earth  caved  in!  Chaos  un 
speakable  tore  north,  east,  south,  west! 

Snortingly  for  one  single  instant  the 
roan's  panic-stricken  nostrils  went  blooming 
up  into  the  cloud-burst  like  two  parched 
scarlet  poinsettias.  Then  man  and  beast  as 
one  flesh,  as  one  mind,  went  bolting  back 
through  the  rain-drenched,  wind-ravished 
thicket  to  find  their  mates. 

Up,  up,  up,  everlastingly  up,  the  moun 
tain  trail  twisted  and  scrambled  through  the 
unholy  darkness.  Now  and  again  a  slip 
pery  stone  tripped  the  roan's  fumbling  feet. 
56 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Now  and  again  a  swaying  branch  slapped 
Barton  stingingly  across  his  straining  eyes. 
All  around  and  about  them  tortured  forest 
trees  moaned  and  writhed  in  the  gale. 
Through  every  cavernous  vista  gray  sheets 
of  rain  went  flapping  madly  by  them.  The 
lightning  was  incredible.  The  thunder  like 
the  snarl  of  a  glass  sky  shivering  into  in 
estimable  fragments. 

With  every  gasping  breath  beginning  to 
rip  from  his  poor  lungs  like  a  knifed  stitch, 
the  roan  still  faltered  on  each  new  ledge  to 
whinny  desperately  to  his  mate.  Equally 
futilely  from  time  to  time,  Barton,  with  his 
hands  cupped  to  his  mouth,  holloed  —  hol 
loed  —  holloed  —  into  the  thunderous  dark 
ness. 

Then  at  a  sharp  turn  in  the  trail,  mag 
ically,  in  a  pale,  transient  flicker  of  light, 
loomed  little  Eve  Edgarton's  boyish  figure, 
drenched  to  the  skin  apparently,  wind- 
driven,  rain-battered,  but  with  hands  in  her 
pockets,  slouch  hat  rakishly  askew,  strolling 
as  nonchalantly  down  that  ghastly  trail  as 
a  child  might  come  strolling  down  a  stained- 
57 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

glassed,  Persian-carpeted  stairway  to  meet 
an  expected  guest. 

In  vaguely  silhouetted  greeting  for  one 
fleet  instant  a  little  khaki  arm  lifted  itself 
full  length  into  the  air. 

Then  more  precipitately  than  any  rational 
thing  could  happen,  more  precipitately  than 
any  rational  thing  could  even  begin  to  hap 
pen,  could  even  begin  to  begin  to  happen, 
without  shock,  without  noise,  without  pain, 
without  terror  or  turmoil,  or  any  time  at  all 
to  fight  or  pray  —  a  slice  of  living  flame 
came  scaling  through  the  darkness  —  and 
cut  Barton's  consciousness  clean  in  two! 


CHAPTER  II 

WHEN  Barton  recovered  the  severed 
parts  of  his  consciousness  again  and 
tried  to  pull  them  together,  he  found  that 
the  Present  was  strangely  missing. 

The  Past  and  the  Future,  however,  were 
perfectly  plain  to  him.  He  was  a  young 
stock-broker.  He  remembered  that  quite 
distinctly!  And  just  as  soon  as  the  imme 
diate  dizzy  mystery  had  been  cleared  up  he 
would,  of  course,  be  a  young  stock-broker 
again!  But  between  this  snug  conviction 
as  to  the  Past,  this  smug  assurance  as  to  the 
Future,  his  mind  lay  tugging  and  shivering 
like  a  man  under  a  split  blanket.  Where 
in  creation  was  the  Present?  Alternately 
he  tried  to  yank  both  Past  and  Future  across 
the  chilly  interim. 

"  There  was  —  a  —  green  and  white 
piazza  corner,"  vaguely  his  memory  re 
minded  him.  "  Never  again !  "  some  latent 
59 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

determination   leaped   to  mock   him.     And 
there  had  been  —  some  sort  of  an  argument 

—  with  a  drollish  old  man  —  concerning  all 
homely  girls  in  general  and  one  very  spe 
cially  homely  little  girl  in  particular.     And 
the  —  very  specially  homely  little  girl  in  par 
ticular  had  turned  out  to  be  the  old  man's 

—  daughter !  — "  Never  again !  "  his  original 
impulse    hastened    to    reassure    him.     And 
there  had  been  a  horseback  ride  —  with  the 
girl.    Oh,  yes  —  out  of  some  strained  sense 
of  —  of  parental  humor  —  there  had  been  a 
forced   horseback   ride.     And  the  weather 
had    been  —  hot  —  and    black  —  and    then 
suddenly  very  yellow.     Yellow?     Yellow? 
Dizzily  the  world  began  to  whir  through 
his  senses  —  a  prism  of  light,  a  fume  of 
sulphur!      Yellow?     Yellow?     What   was 
yellow?     What  was  anything?     What  was 
anything?    Yes!    That  was  just  it!    Where 
was  anything? 

Whimperingly,  like  a  dream-dazed  dog,  the 

soul  of  him  began  to  shiver  wi.th  fear.     Oh, 

ye  gods!     If  returning  consciousness  would 

only  manifest  itself  first  by  some  one  indis- 

60 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

putable  proof  of  a  still  undisintegrated  body, 
some  crisp,  reassuring  method  of  outlining 
one's  corporeal  edges,  some  sensory  roll-call, 
as  it  were  of  —  head,  hands,  feet,  sides! 
But  out  of  oblivion,  out  of  space  abysmal, 
out  of  sensory  annihilation,  to  come  vaporing 
back,  back,  back, —  headless,  armless,  leg 
less,  trunkless,  conscious  only  of  conscious 
ness,  uncertain  yet  whether  the  full 
awakening  prove  itself  —  this  world  or  the 
next!  As  sacred  of  Heaven  —  as  —  of 
hell!  As  —  ! 

Then  very,  very  slowly,  with  no  realiza 
tion  of  eyelids,  with  no  realization  of  lifting 
his  eyelids,  Barton  began  to  see  things. 
And  he  thought  he  was  lying  on  the  soft 
outer  edges  of  a  gigantic  black  pansy,  star 
ing  blankly  through  its  glowing  golden  cen 
ter  into  the  droll,  sketchy  little  face  of  the 
pansy. 

And  then  suddenly,  with  a  jerk  that 
seemed  almost  to  crack  his  spine,  he  sensed 
that  the  blackness  was  n't  a  pansy  at  all,  but 
just  a  round,  earthy  sort  of  blackness  in 
which  he  himself  lay  mysteriously  prone. 
61 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

And  he  heard  the  wind  still  roaring  furi 
ously  away  off  somewhere.  And  he  heard 
the  rain  still  drenching  and  sousing  away  off 
somewhere.  But  no  wind  seemed  to  be  tug 
ging  directly  at  him,  and  no  rain  seemed  to 
be  splashing  directly  on  him.  And  instead 
of  the  cavernous  golden  crater  of  a  super 
natural  pansy  there  was  just  a  perfectly  tame 
yellow  farm-lantern  balanced  adroitly  on  a 
low  stone  in  the  middle  of  the  mysterious 
round  blackness. 

And  in  the  sallow  glow  of  that  pleasant 
lantern-light  little  Eve  Edgarton  sat  cross- 
legged  on  the  ground  with  a  great  pulpy 
clutter  of  rain-soaked  magazines  spread  out 
all  around  her  like  a  giant's  pack  of  cards. 
And  diagonally  across  her  breast  from 
shoulder  to  waistline  her  little  gray  flannel 
shirt  hung  gashed  into  innumerable  rib 
bons. 

To  Barton's  blinking  eyes  she  looked  ex 
ceedingly  strange  and  untidy.  But  nothing 
seemed  to  concern  little  Eve  Edgarton 
except  that  spreading  circle  of  half-drowned 
papers. 

62 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  —  wha  —  ght  are 
you  —  do'  ?  "  mumbled  Barton. 

Out  from  her  flickering  aura  of  yellow 
lantern-light  little  Eve  Edgarton  peered 
forth  quizzically  into  Barton's  darkness. 
"  Why  —  I  'm  trying  to  save  —  my  poor 
dear  —  books,"  she  drawled. 

"Wha  — ght?"  struggled  Barton.  The 
word  dragged  on  his  tongue  like  a  weight  of 
lead.  "Wha  —  ght?"  he  persisted  desper 
ately.  "  Wh  —  ere?  —  For  —  Heaven's 
sake  —  wha  —  ght 's  the  matter  —  with 
us?" 

Solicitously  little  Eve  Edgarton  lifted  a 
soggy  magazine-page  to  the  lantern's  warm, 
curving  cheek. 

"Why  —  we're  in  my  cave,"  she  con 
fided.  "  In  my  very  own  —  cave  —  you 
know  —  that  I  was  headed  for  —  all  the 
time.  We  got  —  sort  of  —  struck  by  light 
ning,"  she  started  to  explain.  "  We  — " 

"Struck  by  —  lightning?"   gasped   Bar 
ton.     Mentally  he  started  to  jump  up.     But 
physically     nothing     moved.     "  My     God ! 
I  'm  paralyzed !  "  he  screamed. 
63 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Oh,  no  —  really  —  I  don't  think  so," 
crooned  little  Eve  Edgarton. 

With  the  faintest  possible  tinge  of  reluc 
tance  she  put  down  her  papers,  picked  up 
the  lantern,  and,  crawling  over  to  where 
Barton  lay,  sat  down  cross-legged  again  on 
the  ground  beside  him,  and  began  with  me 
chanically  alternate  fist  and  palm  to 
rubadubdub  and  thump-thump-thump  and 
stroke-stroke-stroke  his  utterly  helpless 
body. 

"  Oh  —  of  —  course  —  you  've  had  —  an 
awfully  close  call ! "  she  drummed  reso 
nantly  upon  his  apathetic  chest.  *'  But  I  've 
seen  —  three  lightning  people  —  a  lot  worse 
off  than  you !  "  she  kneaded  reassuringly  into 
his  insensate  neck-muscles.  "And  —  they 
—  came  out  of  it  —  al.  right  —  after  a  few 
days ! "  she  slapped  mercilessly  into  his 
faintly  conscious  sides. 

Very  slowly,  very  sluggishly,  as  his  circu 
lation  quickened  again,  a  horrid  suspicion 
began  to  stir  in  Barton's  mind ;  but  it  took 
him  a  long  time  to  voice  the  suspicion  in 
anything  as  loud  and  public  as  words. 
64 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Miss  —  Edgarton !  "  he  plunged  at  last 
quite  precipitately.  "  Miss  Edgarton !  Do 
I  seem  to  have  —  any  shirt  on  ?  " 

"  No,  you  don't  seem  to,  exactly,  Mr. 
Barton,"  conceded  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
"And  your  skin — " 

From  head  to  foot  Barton's  whole  body 
strained  and  twisted  in  a  futile  effort  to  raise 
himself  to  at  least  one  elbow.  "  Why,  I  'm 
stripped  to  my  waist !  "  he  stammered  in  real 
horror. 

"  Why,  yes  —  of  course,"  drawled  little 
Eve  Edgarton.  "  And  your  skin  — "  Im- 
perturbably  as  she  spoke  she  pushed  him 
down  flat  on  the  ground  again  and  began, 
with  her  hands  edged  vertically  like  two  slim 
boards,  to  slash  little  blissful  gashes  of  con 
sciousness  and  pain  into  his  frigid  right  arm. 
"  You  see  —  I  had  to  take  both  your  shirts," 
she  explained,  "  and  what  was  left  of  your 
coat  —  and  all  of  my  coat  —  to  make  a  soft, 
strong  rope  to  tie  round  under  your  arms 
so  the  horse  could  drag  you." 

"  Did  the  roan  drag  me  — 'way  up  here  ?  " 
groaned  Barton  a  bit  hazily. 

65 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

With  the  faintest  possible  gasp  of  sur 
prise  little  Eve  Edgarton  stopped  slashing 
his  arm  and,  picking  up  the  lantern,  flashed 
it  disconcertingly  across  his  blinking  eyes 
and  naked  shoulders.  "  The  roans  are  in 
heaven,"  she  said  quite  simply.  "  It  was 
Mother's  horse  that  dragged  you  up  here." 
As  casually  as  if  he  had  been  a  big  doll  she 
reached  out  one  slim  brown  finger  and  drew 
his  under  lip  a  little  bit  down  from  his  teeth. 
"  My !  But  you  're  still  blue !  "  she  con 
fided  frankly.  "  I  guess  perhaps  you  'd 
better  have  a  little  more  vodka." 

Again  Barton  struggled  vainly  to  raise 
himself  on  one  elbow.  "Vodka?"  he 
stammered. 

Again  the  lifted  lantern  light  flashed  dis 
concertingly  across  his  face  and  shoulders. 

"  Why,  don't  you  remember  —  any 
thing?"  drawled  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
"  Not  anything  at  all  ?  Why,  I  must  have 
worked  over  you  two  hours  —  artificial  res 
piration,  you  know,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing 
—  before  I  even  got  you  up  here!  My! 
But  you  're  heavy ! "  she  reproached  him 
66 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

frowningly.  "  Men  ought  to  stay  just  as 
light  as  they  possibly  can,  so  when  they  get 
into  trouble  and  things  —  it  would  be  easier 
for  women  to  help  them.  Why,  last  year  in 
the  China  Sea  —  with  Father  and  five  of  his 
friends  —  !" 

A  trifle  shiveringly  she  shrugged  her  shoul 
ders.  "  Oh,  well,  never  mind  about  Father 
and  the  China  Sea,"  she  retracted  soberly. 
"  It 's  only  that  I  'm  so  small,  you  see,  and 
so  flexible  —  I  can  crawl  'round  most  any 
where  through  port-holes  and  things  —  even 
if  they  're  capsized.  So  we  only  lost  one 
of  them  —  one  of  Father's  friends,  I  mean; 
and  I  never  would  have  lost  him  if  he  had  n't 
been  so  heavy." 

"  Hours  ? "  gasped  Barton  irrelevantly. 
With  a  wry  twist  of  his  neck  he  peered  out 
through  the  darkness  to  where  the  freshen 
ing  air,  the  steady,  monotonous  slosh-slosh- 
slosh  of  rain,  the  pale  intermittent  flare  of 
stale  lightning,  proclaimed  the  opening  of 
the  cave. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  wh-at  —  what  time 
is  it?"  he  faltered. 

67 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Why,  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  lit 
tle  Eve  Edgarton.  "  But  I  should  guess  it 
might  be  about  eight  or  nine  o'clock.  Are 
you  hungry  ?  " 

With  infinite  agility  she  scrambled  to  her 
knees  and  went  darting  off  on  all  fours  like 
a  squirrel  into  some  mysterious,  clattery  cor 
ner  of  the  darkness  from  which  she  emerged 
at  last  with  one  little  gray  flannel  arm 
crooked  inclusively  around  a  whole  elbow- 
ful  of  treasure. 

"  There,"  she  drawled.  "  There.  There. 
There." 

Only  the  soft  earthy  thud  that  ac 
companied  each  "  There "  pointed  the 
slightest  significance  to  the  word.  The  first 
thud  was  a  slim,  queer,  stone  flagon  of 
vodka.  Wanly,  like  some  far  pinnacle  on 
some  far  Russian  fortress,  its  grim  shape 
loomed  in  the  sallow  lantern  light.  The 
second  thud  was  a  dust-colored  basket  of 
dates  from  some  green-spotted  Arabian  des 
ert.  Vaguely  its  soft  curving  outline 
merged  into  shadow  and  turf.  The  third 
thud  was  a  battered  old  drinking-cup  — 
68 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

dully  silver,  mysteriously  Chinese.  The 
fourth  thud  was  a  big  glass  jar  of  frankly 
American  beef.  Familiarly,  reassuringly, 
its  sleek  sides  glinted  in  the  flickering 
flame. 

"  Supper,"  announced  little  Eve  Edgar- 
ton. 

As  tomboyishly  as  a  miniature  brigand  she 
crawled  forward  again  into  the  meager 
square  of  lantern-tinted  earth  and,  yanking 
a  revolver  out  of  one  boot-leg  and  a  pair  of 
scissors  from  the  other,  settled  herself  with 
unassailable  girlishness  to  jab  the  delicate 
scissors-points  into  the  stubborn  tin  top  of 
the  meat  jar. 

As  though  the  tin  had  been  his  own  flesh 
the  act  goaded  Barton  half  upright  into  the 
light  —  a  brightly  naked  young  Viking  to 
the  waist,  a  vaguely  shadowed  equestrian 
Fashion  Plate  to  the  feet. 

"  Well  —  I  certainly  never  saw  anybody 
like  you  before!  "  he  glowered  at  her. 

With  equal  gravity  but  infinitely  more  de 
liberation  little  Eve  Edgarton  returned  the 
stare.  "  I  never  saw  anybody  like  you 
69 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

before,     either,"     she     said    enigmatically. 

Barton  winced  back  into  the  darkness. 
"  Oh,  I  say,"  he  stammered.  "  I  wish  I  had 
a  coat !  I  feel  like  a  —  like  a  — " 

"Why  — why?"  droned  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton  perplexedly.  Out  from  the  yellow 
heart  of  the  pansy-blackness  her  small, 
grave,  gnomish  face  peered  after  him  with 
pristine  frankness.  "  Why  —  why  —  I 
think  you  look  —  nice,"  said  little  Eve  Ed 
gar  ton. 

With  a  really  desperate  effort  Barton 
tried  to  clothe  himself  in  facetiousness,  if 
in  nothing  else.  "  Oh,  very  well,"  he 
grinned  feebly.  "If  you  don't  mind  — 
there  's  no  special  reason,  I  suppose,  why  I 
should." 

Vaguely,  blurrishly,  like  a  figure  on  the 
wrong  side  of  a  stained-glass  window,  he 
began  to  loom  up  again  into  the  lantern 
light.  There  was  no  embarrassment  cer 
tainly  about  his  hunger,  nor  any  affectation 
at  all  connected  with  his  thirst.  Chokingly 
from  the  battered  silver  cup  he  gulped  down 
the  scorching  vodka.  Ravenously  he  at- 
70 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

tacked  the  salty  meat,  the  sweet,  cloying 
dates. 

Watching  him  solemn-eyed  above  her  own 
intermittent  nibbles,  the  girl  spoke  out  quite 
simply  the  thought  that  was  uppermost  in 
her  mind.  "  This  supper  '11  come  in  mighty 
handy,  won't  it,  if  we  have  to  be  out  here 
all  night,  Mr.  Barton  ?  " 

"  If  we  have  to  be  out  here  —  all  night  ?  " 
faltered  Barton. 

Oh,  ye  gods !  If  just  their  afternoon  ride 
together  had  been  hotel  talk  —  as  of  course 
it  was  within  five  minutes  after  their  de 
parture  —  what  would  their  midnight  re 
turn  be?  Or  rather  their  non-return? 
Already  through  his  addled  brain  he  heard 
the  monotonous  creak-creak  of  rocking- 
chair  gossip,  the  sly  jest  of  the  smoking- 
room,  the  whispered  excitement  of  the 
kitchen  —  all  the  sophisticated  old  world 
lings  hoping  indifferently  for  the  best,  all 
the  unsophisticated  old  prudes  yearning 
ecstatically  for  the  worst! 

"If  we  have  to  stay  out  here  all  night?  " 
he  repeated  wildly.  "  Oh,  what  —  oh,  what 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

will    your    father    say,    Miss    Edgarton  ? " 

"  What  will  Father  say  ?  "  drawled  little 
Eve  Edgarton.  Thuddingly  she  set  down 
the  empty  beef-jar.  "  Oh,  Father  '11  say : 
What  in  creation  is  Eve  out  trying  to  save 
to-night?  A  dog?  A  cat?  A  three- 
legged  deer?  " 

"  Well,  what  do  you  expect  to  save  ? " 
quizzed  Barton  a  bit  tartly. 

"Just  —  you,"  acknowledged  little  Eve 
Edgarton  without  enthusiasm.  "  And  is  n't 
it  funny,"  she  confided  placidly,  "  that  I  've 
never  yet  succeeded  in  saving  anything  that 
I  could  take  home  with  me  —  and  keep! 
That 's  the  trouble  with  boarding!  " 

In  a  vague,  gold-colored  flicker  of  appeal 
her  lifted  face  flared  out  again  into  Bar 
ton's  darkness.  Too  fugitive  to  be  called 
a  smile,  a  tremor  of  reminiscence  went  scud 
ding  across  her  mouth  before  the  brooding 
shadow  of  her  old  slouch  hat  blotted  out  her 
features  again. 

"  In  India  once,"  persisted  the  dreary  lit 
tle  voice,  "  in  India  once,  when  Father  and 
I  were  going  into  the  mountains  for  the 
72 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

summer,  there  was  a  —  there  was  a  sort  of 
fakir  at  one  of  the  railway  stations  doing 
tricks  with  a  crippled  tiger-cub  —  a  tiger- 
cub  with  a  shot-off  paw.  And  when  Father 
was  n't  looking  I  got  off  the  train  and  went 
back  —  and  I  followed  that  fakir  two  days 
till  he  just  naturally  had  to  sell  me  the  tiger- 
cub  ;  he  could  n't  exactly  have  an  English 
woman  following  him  indefinitely,  you 
know.  And  I  took  the  tiger-cub  back  with 
me  to  Father  and  he  was  very  cunning  — 
but — "  Languorously  the  speech  trailed 
off  into  indistinctness.  "  But  the  people  at 
the  hotel  were  —  were  indifferent  to  him," 
she  rallied  whisperingly.  "  And  I  had  to 
let  him  go." 

"You  got  off  a  train?  In  India? 
Alone  ?  "  snapped  Barton.  "  And  went  fol 
lowing  a  dirty,  sneaking  fakir  for  two  days  ? 
Well,  of  all  the  crazy  —  indiscreet — " 

"  Indiscreet  ?  "  mused  little  Eve  Edgar- 
v  on.  Again  out  of  the  murky  blackness  her 
tilted  chin  caught  up  the  flare  of  yellow  lan 
tern-light.  "  Indiscreet?  "  she  repeated  mo 
notonously.  "Who?  I?" 

73 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Yes  —  you,"  grunted  Barton.  "  Traip 
sing  'round  all  alone  —  after — " 

"  But  I  never  am  alone,  Mr.  Barton,"  pro 
tested  the  mild  little  voice.  "  You  see  I  al 
ways  have  the  extra  saddle,  the  extra  railway 
ticket,  the  extra  what-ever-it-is.  And  — 
and — "  Caressingly  a  little  gold-tipped 
hand  reached  out  through  the  shadows  and 
patted  something  indistinctly  metallic. 
"  My  mother's  memory  ?  My  father's  re 
volver  ?  "  she  drawled.  "  Why,  what  better 
company  could  any  girl  have?  Indis 
creet?"  Slowly  the  tip  of  her  little  nose 
tilted  up  into  the  light.  "  Why,  down  in 
the  Transvaal  —  two  years  ago,"  she  ex 
plained  painstakingly,  "  why,  down  in  the 
Transvaal  —  two  years  ago  —  they  called 
me  the  best-chaperoned  girl  in  Africa.  In 
discreet?  Why,  Mr.  Barton,  I  never  even 
saw  an  indiscreet  woman  in  all  my  life. 
Men,  of  course,  are  indiscreet  sometimes," 
she  conceded  conscientiously.  "  Down  in 
the  Transvaal  two  years  ago,  I  had  to  shoot 
up  a  couple  of  men  for  being  a  little  bit 
indiscreet,  but — " 

74 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

In  one  jerk  Barton  raised  himself  to  a 
sitting  posture. 

"  You  '  shot  up '  a  couple  of  men?  "  he 
demanded  peremptorily. 

Through  the  crook  of  a  mud-smeared  el 
bow  shoving  back  the  sodden  brim  of  her 
hat,  the  girl  glanced  toward  him  like  a 
vaguely  perplexed  little  ragamuffin.  "  It 
was  —  messy,"  she  admitted  softly.  Out 
from  her  snarl  of  storm-blown  hair,  tattered, 
battered  by  wind  and  rain,  she  peered  up  sud 
denly  with  her  first  frowning  sign  of 
self-consciousness.  "If  there's  one  thing 
in  the  world  that  I  regret,"  she  faltered  dep- 
recatingly,  it 's  a  —  it 's  —  an  untidy 
fight." 

Altogether  violently  Barton  burst  out 
laughing.  There  was  no  mirth  in  the  laugh, 
but  just  noise.  "Oh,  let's  go  home!"  he 
suggested  hysterically. 

"Home?"  faltered  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
With  a  sluggish  sort  of  defiance  she  reached 
out  and  gathered  the  big  wet  scrap-book  to 
her  breast.  "  Why,  Mr.  Barton,"  she  said, 
"  we  could  n't  get  home  now  in  all  this  storm 

75 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

and  darkness  and  wash-out  —  to  save  our 
lives.  But  even  if  it  were  moonlight,"  she 
singsonged,  "  and  starlight  —  and  high- 
noon;  even  if  there  were  —  chariots  —  at 
the  door,  I  'm  not  going  home  —  now  —  till 
I  've  finished  my  scrap-book  —  if  it  takes  a 
week." 

"  Eh  ?  "  jerked  Barton.  "  What  ?  "  La 
boriously  he  edged  himself  forward.  For 
five  hours  now  of  reckless  riding,  of  storm 
and  privation,  through  death  and  disaster, 
the  girl  had  clung  tenaciously  to  her  books 
and  papers.  What  in  creation  was  in  them  ? 
"  For  Heaven's  sake  —  Miss  Edgarton  — " 
he  began. 

"Oh,  don't  fuss  —  so,"  said  little  Eve 
Edgarton.  "  It 's  nothing  but  my  paper- 
doll  book." 

"Your  PAPER-DOLL  BOOK?"  stammered 
Barton.  With  another  racking  effort  he 
edged  himself  even  farther  forward. 
"  Miss  Edgarton ! "  he  asked  quite  frankly, 
"  are  you  —  crazy  ?  " 

"  N  —  o !  But  —  very  determined," 
drawled  little  Eve  Edgarton.  With  unruf- 
76 


"  Your  PAPER- DOLL  BOOK  ?  "  stammered  Barton 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

fled  serenity  she  picked  up  a  pulpy  maga 
zine-page  from  the  ground  in  front  of  her 
and  handed  it  to  him.'  "  And  it  —  would 
greatly  facilitate  matters,  Mr.  Barton,"  she 
confided,  "  if  you  would  kindly  begin  dry 
ing  out  some  papers  against  your  side  of 
the  lantern." 

"  What?  "  gasped  Barton. 

Very  gingerly  he  took  the  pulpy  sheet  be 
tween  his  thumb  and  forefinger.  It  was  a 
full-page  picture  of  a  big  gas-range,  and 
slowly,  as  he  scanned  it  for  some  hidden 
charm  or  value,  it  split  in  two  and  fell  sog- 
gily  back  to  its  mates.  Once  again  for 
sheer  nervous  relief  he  burst  out  laugh 
ing. 

Out  of  her  diminutiveness,  out  of  her 
leanness,  out  of  her  extraordinary  litheness, 
little  Eve  Edgarton  stared  up  speculatively 
at  Barton's  great  hulking  helplessness. 
Her  hat  looked  humorous.  Her  hair  looked 
humorous.  Her  tattered  flannel  shirt  was 
distinctly  humorous.  But  there  was  noth 
ing  humorous  about  her  set  little  mouth. 
79 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"If  you  — laugh,"  she  threatened,  "I'll 
tip  you  over  backward  again  —  and  —  tram 
ple  on  you." 

"  I  believe  you  would !  "  said  Barton  with 
a  sudden  sobriety  more  packed  with  mirth 
than  any  laugh  he  had  ever  laughed. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care,"  conceded  the  girl  a 
bit  sheepishly.  "  Everybody  laughs  at  my 
paper-doll  book!  Father  does!  Every 
body  does !  When  I  'm  rearranging  their 
old  mummy  collections  —  and  cataloguing 
their  old  South  American  birds  —  or  shin 
ing  up  their  old  geological  specimens  — 
they  think  I  'm  wonderful.  But  when  I 
try  to  do  the  teeniest  —  tiniest  thing  that 
happens  to  interest  me  —  they  call  me 
'  crazy  ' !  So  that 's  why  I  come  'way  out 
here  to  this  cave  —  to  play,"  she  whispered 
with  a  flicker  of  real  shyness.  "  In  all  the 
world,"  she  confided,  "  this  cave  is  the  only 
place  I  've  ever  found  where  there  was  n't 
anybody  to  laugh  at  me." 

Between  her  placid  brows  a  vindictive  lit 
tle  frown  blackened  suddenly.  "  That 's 
why  it  was  n't  specially  convenient,  Mr. 
80 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Barton  —  to  have  you  ride  with  me  this 
afternoon,"  she  affirmed.  "  That 's  why  it 
was  n't  specially  convenient  to  —  to  have 
you  struck  by  lightning  this  afternoon !  " 
Tragically,  with  one  small  brown  hand,  she 
pointed  toward  the  great  water-soaked  mess 
of  magazines  that  surrounded  her.  "  You 
see/'  she  mourned,  "  I  've  been  saving  them 
up  all  summer  —  to  cut  out  —  to-day! 
And  now  ?  —  Now  —  ?  We  're  sailing  for 
Melbourne  Saturday !  "  she  added  conclu 
sively. 

"  Well  —  really !  "  stammered  Barton. 
"Well  — truly!  — Well,  of  all  — damned 
things!  Why  —  what  do  you  want  me  to 
do?  Apologize  to  you  for  having  been 
struck  by  lightning?  "  His  voice  was  fairly 
riotous  with  astonishment  and  indignation. 
Then  quite  unexpectedly  one  side  of  his 
mouth  began  to  twist  upward  in  the  faint 
est  perceptible  sort  of  a  real  grin. 

"  When  you  smile  like  that  you  're  — 
quite  pleasant,"  murmured  little  Eve  Edgar- 
ton. 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  grinned  Barton.  "  Well, 
81 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

it  would  n't  hurt  you  to  smile  just  a  tiny  bit 
now  and  then !  " 

"Wouldn't  it?"  said  little  Eve  Edgar- 
ton.  Thoughtfully  for  a  moment,  with  her 
scissors  poised  high  in  the  air,  she  seemed 
to  be  considering  the  suggestion.  Then 
quite  abruptly  again  she  resumed  her  task 
of  prying  some  pasted  object  out  of  her 
scrap-book.  "  Oh,  no,  thank  you,  Mr.  Bar 
ton,"  she  decided.  "  I  'm  much  too  bored 
—  all  the  while  —  to  do  any  smiling." 

"  Bored?  "  snapped  Barton.  Staring  per 
plexedly  into  her  dreary,  meek  little  face, 
something  deeper,  something  infinitely  sub 
tler  than  mere  curiosity,  wakened  precipi 
tately  in  his  consciousness.  "  For  Heaven's 
sake,  Miss  Edgarton ! "  he  stammered. 
"  From  the  Arctic  Ocean  to  the  South  Seas, 
if  you  Ve  seen  all  the  things  that  you  must 
have  seen,  if  you  've  done  all  the  things  that 
you  must  have  done  —  WHY  SHOULD  YOU 

LOOK    SO    BORED?  " 

Flutteringly  the  girl's  eyes  lifted  and  fell. 
"  Why,  I  'm  bored,  Mr.  Barton,"  drawled 
little  Eve  Edgarton,  "  I  'm  bored  because  — 
82 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

I  'm  sick  to  death  —  of  seeing  all  the  things 
I  've  seen.  I  'm  sick  to  death  of  —  doing 
all  the  things  I  've  done."  With  little  metal 
lic  snips  of  sound  she  concentrated  herself 
and  her  scissors  suddenly  upon  the  mahog 
any-colored  picture  of  a  pianola. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want  ?  "  quizzed  Bar 
ton. 

In  a  sullen,  turgid  sort  of  defiance  the 
girl  lifted  her  somber  eyes  to  his.  "  I  want 
to  stay  home  —  like  other  people  —  and 
have  a  house,"  she  wailed.  "  I  want  a  house 
—  and  —  the  things  that  go  with  a  house: 
a  cat,  and  the  things  that  go  with  a  cat; 
kittens,  and  the  things  that  go  with  kittens ; 
saucers  of  cream,  and  the  things  that  go 
with  saucers  of  cream;  ice-chests,  and  — 
and — "  Surprisingly  into  her  languid, 
sing-song  tone  broke  a  sudden  note  of  pas 
sion.  "  Bah !  "  she  snapped.  "  Think  of 
going  all  the  way  to  India  just  to  plunge 
your  arms  into  the  spooky,  foamy  Ganges 
and  '  make  a  wish  ' !  '  What  do  you  wish  ?  ' 
asks  Father,  pleased  as  a  Chessy-puss. 
Humph!  I  wish  it  was  the  soap-suds  in 

83 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

my  own  wash-tub !  —  Or  gallivanting  down 
to  British  Guiana  just  to  smell  the  great 
blowsy  water-lilies  in  the  canals !  I  'd  rather 
smell  burned  crackers  in  my  own  cook 
stove ! " 

"  But  you  '11  surely  have  a  house  —  some 
time,"  argued  Barton  with  real  sympathy. 
Quite  against  all  intention  the  girl's  unex 
pected  emotion  disturbed  him  a  little. 
"  Every  girl  gets  a  house  —  some  time !  " 
he  insisted  resolutely. 

"  N  —  o,  I  don't  —  think  so,"  mused 
Eve  Edgarton  judicially.  "  You  see,"  she 
explained  with  soft,  slow  deliberation,  "  you 
see,  Mr.  Barton,  only  people  who  live  in 
houses  know  people  who  live  in  houses!  If 
you  're  a  nomad  you  meet  —  only  nomads ! 
Campers  mate  just  naturally  with  campers, 
and  ocean-travelers  with  ocean-travelers  — 
and  red-velvet  hotel-dwellers  with  red-vel 
vet  hotel-dwellers.  Oh,  of  course,  if  Mother 
had  lived  it  might  have  been  different,"  she 
added  a  trifle  more  cheerfully.  "  For,  of 
course,  if  Mother  had  lived  I  should  have 
been  —  pretty,"  she  asserted  calmly,  "  or  in- 
84 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

teresting-looking,  anyway.  Mother  would 
surely  have  managed  it  —  somehow ;  and  I 
should  have  had  a  lot  of  beaux  —  young 
men  beaux  I  mean,  like  you.  Father's 
friends  are  all  so  gray !  —  Oh,  of  course,  I 
shall  marry  —  some  time,"  she  continued 
evenly.  "  Probably  I  'm  going  to  marry  the 
British  consul  at  Nunku-Nono.  He 's  a 
great  friend  of  Father's  —  and  he  wants  me 
to  help  him  write  a  book  on  '  The  Geologic 
Relationship  of  Melanesia  to  the  Australian 
Continent ' !  " 

Dully  her  voice  rose  to  its  monotone: 
"  But  I  don't  suppose  —  we  shall  live  in  a 
—  house,"  she  moaned  apathetically.  "  At 
the  best  it  will  probably  be  only  a  musty 
room  or  two  up  over  the  consulate  —  and 
more  likely  than  not  it  won't  be  anything 
at  all  except  a  nipa  hut  and  a  typewriter- 
table." 

As  if  some  mote  of  dust  disturbed  her, 
suddenly  she  rubbed  the  knuckles  of  one 
hand  across  her  eyes.  "  But  maybe  we  '11 
have  —  daughters,"  she  persisted  undaunt 
edly.  "  And  maybe  they  '11  have  houses !  " 
85 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Oh,  shucks ! "  said  Barton  uneasily. 
"A  —  a  house  is  n't  so  much !  " 

"  It  —  is  n't  ?  "  asked  little  Eve  Edgarton 
incredulously.  "  Why  —  why  —  you  don't 
mean  — " 

"  Don't  mean  —  what  ?  "  puzzled  Barton. 

"  Do  —  you  —  live  —  in  —  a  —  house  ?  " 
asked  little  Eve  Edgarton  abruptly.  Her 
hands  were  suddenly  quiet  in  her  lap,  her 
tousled  head  cocked  ever  so  slightly  to 
one  side,  her  sluggish  eyes  incredibly  di 
lated. 

"  Why,  of  course  I  live  in  a  house," 
laughed  Barton. 

"O  —  h,"  breathed  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
"Re  — ally?  It  must  be  wonderful." 
Wiltingly  her  eyes,  her  hands,  drooped  back 
to  her  scrap-book  again.  "  In  —  all  —  my 
—  life,"  she  resumed  monotonously,  "  I  've 
never  spent  a  single  night  —  in  a  real 
house." 

"What?"  questioned  Barton. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  explained  the  girl  duliy, 
"of  course  I've  spent  no  end  of  nights  in 
hotels  and  camps  and  huts  and  trains  and 
86 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

steamers  and —  But —  What  color  is 
your  house  ?  "  she  asked  casually. 

"  Why,  brown,  I  guess,"  said  Barton. 

"  Brown,  you  '  guess  '  ?  "  whispered  the 
girl  pitifully.  "Don't  you  —  know?" 

"  No,  I  would  n't  exactly  like  to  swear 
to  it,"  grinned  Barton  a  bit  sheepishly. 

Again  the  girl's  eyes  lifted  just  a  bit  over- 
intently  from  the  work  in  her  lap. 

"  What  color  is  the  wall-paper  —  in  your 
own  room?"  she  asked  casually.  "  Is  it  — 
is  it  a  —  dear  pinkie-posie  sort  of  effect? 
Or  just  plain  —  shaded  stripes?" 

"  Why,  I  'm  sure  I  don't  remember,"  ac 
knowledged  Barton  worriedly.  "  Wrhy,  it 's 
just  paper,  you  know —  paper,"  he  floun 
dered  helplessly.  "  Red,  green,  brown, 
white  —  maybe  it 's  white,"  he  asserted  ex 
perimentally.  "  Oh,  for  goodness'  sake  — 
how  should  I  know ! "  he  collapsed  at  last. 
"  When  my  sisters  were  home  from  Europe 
last  year,  they  fixed  the  whole  blooming 
place  over  for  —  some  kind  of  a  party.  But 
I  don't  know  that  I  ever  specially  noticed 
just  what  it  was  that  they  did  to  it.  Oh, 
87 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

it 's  all  right,  you  know !  "  he  attested  with 
some  emphasis.  "  Oh,  it 's  all  right  enough 
—  early  Jacobean,  or  something  like  that  — 
'  perfectly  corking,'  everybody  calls  it ! 
But  it 's  so  everlasting  big,  and  it  costs  so 
much  to  run  it,  and  I  've  lost  such  a  wicked 
lot  of  money  this  year,  that  I  'm  not  going 
to  keep  it  after  this  autumn  —  if  my  sisters 
ever  send  me  their  Paris  address  so  I  '11 
know  what  to  do  with  their  things." 

Frowningly  little  Eve  Edgarton  bent  for 
ward. 

"  '  Some  kind  of  a  party?  '  "  she  repeated 
in  unconscious  mimicry.  "  You  mean  you 
gave  a  party?  A  real  Christian  party?  As 
recently  as  last  winter  ?  And  you  can't  even 
remember  what  kind  of  a  party  it  was?" 
Something  in  her  slender  brown  throat  flut 
tered  ever  so  slightly.  "  Why,  I  Ve  never 
even  been  to  a  Christian  party  —  in  all  my 
life!"  she  said.  "Though  I  can  dance  in 
every  language  of  Asia! 

"  And  you  Ve  got  sisters  ? "  she  stam 
mered.  "  Live  silk-and-muslin  sisters  ? 
And  you  don't  even  know  where  they  are? 
88 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Why,  I  've  never  even  had  a  girl  friend  in 
all  my  life!" 

Incredulously  she  lifted  her  puzzled  eyes  to 
his.  "  And  you  've  got  a  house?  "  she  fal 
tered.  "  And  you  're  not  going  to  keep  it? 
A  real  —  truly  house  ?  And  you  don't  even 
know  what  color  it  is?  You  don't  even 
know  what  color  your  own  room  is?  And 
I  know  the  name  of  every  house-paint  there 
is  in  the  world,"  she  muttered,  "  and  the 
name  of  every  wall-paper  there  is  in  the 
world,  and  the  name  of  every  carpet,  and 
the  name  of  every  curtain,  and  the  name  of 
—  everything.  And  I  have  n't  got  any 
house  at  all — " 

Then  startlingly,  without  the  slightest 
warning,  she  pitched  forward  suddenly  on 
her  face  and  lay  clutching  into  the  turf  —  a 
little  dust-colored  wisp  of  a  boyish  figure 
sobbing  its  starved  heart  out  against  a  dust- 
colored  earth. 

"  Why  —  what 's    the    matter !  "    gasped 

Barton.     "  Why !  —  Why  —  Kid !"'      Very 

laboriously   with   his   numbed   hands,   with 

his  strange,  unresponsive  legs,  he  edged  him- 

89 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

self  forward  a  little  till  he  could  just  reach 
her  shoulder.  "Why  —  Kid!"  he  patted 
her  rather  clumsily.  "  Why,  Kid  —  do  you 
mean  — " 

Slowly  through  the  darkness  Eve  Edgar- 
ton  came  crawling  to  his  side.  Solemnly 
she  lifted  her  eyes  to  Barton's.  "  I  '11  tell 
you  something  that  Mother  told  me,"  she 
murmured.  "  This  is  it :  '  Your  father  is 
the  most  wonderful  man  that  ever  lived,'  my 
mother  whispered  to  me  quite  distinctly. 
*  But  he  '11  never  make  any  home  for  you 
—  except  in  his  arms;  and  that  is  plenty 
Home-Enough  for  a  wife  —  but  not  nearly 
Home-Enough  for  a  daughter!  And  — 
and—" 

"Why,  you  say  it  as  if  you  knew  it  by 
heart,"  interrupted  Barton. 

"  Why,  of  course  I  know  it  by  heart !  " 
cried  little  Eve  Edgarton  almost  eagerly. 
"  My  mother  whispered  it  to  me,  I  tell  you ! 
The  things  that  people  shout  at  you  —  you 
forget  in  half  a  night.  But  the  things  that 
people  whisper  to  you,  you  remember  to  your 
dying  day ! " 

90 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  If  I  whisper  something  to  you,"  said 
Barton  quite  impulsively,  "  will  you  promise 
to  remember  it  to  your  dying  day?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  Mr.  Barton,"  droned  little  Eve 
Edgarton. 

Abruptly  Barton  reached  out  and  tilted 
her  chin  up  whitely  toward  him.  "  In  this 
light,"  he  whispered,  "  with  your  hat  pushed 
back  like  —  that!  —  and  your  hair  fluffed 
up  like  —  that !  —  and  the  little  laugh  in 
your  eyes!  —  and  the  flush!  —  and  the 
quiver!  —  you  look  like  an  —  elf!  A 
bronze  and  gold  elf!  You're  wonderful! 
You  're  magical !  You  ought  always  to 
dress  like  that!  Somebody  ought  to  tell 
you  about  it!  Woodsy,  storm-colored 
clothes  with  little  quick  glints  of  light  in 
them!  Paquin  or  some  of  those  people 
could  make  you  famous !  " 

As  spontaneously  as  he  had  touched  her 
he  jerked  his  hand  away,  and,  snatching  up 
the  lantern,  flashed  it  bluntly  on  her  aston 
ished  face. 

For  one  brief  instant  her  hand  went  creep 
ing  up  to  the  tip  of  her  chin.  Then  very 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

soberly,  like  a  child  with  a  lesson,  she  be 
gan  to  repeat  Barton's  impulsive  phrases. 

"'In  this  light/"  she  droned,  "  *  with 
your  hat  pushed  back  like  that  —  and  your 
hair  fluffed  up  like  that  —  and  the  — 
the  — ' '  More  unexpectedly  then  than  any 
thing  that  could  possibly  have  happened  she 
burst  out  laughing  —  a  little  low,  giggly, 
school-girlish  sort  of  laugh.  "  Oh,  that 's 
easy  to  remember !  "  she  announced.  Then, 
all  one  narrow  black  silhouette  again,  she 
crouched  down  into  the  semi-darkness. 

"  For  a  lady,"  she  resumed  listlessly, 
"who  rode  side-saddle  and  really  enjoyed 
hiking  'round  all  over  the  sticky  face  of  the 
globe,  my  mother  certainly  did  guess  pretty 
keenly  just  how  things  were  going  to  be  with 
me.  I  '11  tell  you  what  she  said  to  sustain 
me,"  she  repeated  dreamily,  "  '  Any  foolish 
woman  can  keep  house,  but  the  woman  who 
travels  with  your  father  has  got  to  be  able 
to  keep  the  whole  wide  world  for  him !  It 's 
nations  that  you  '11  have  to  put  to  bed !  And 
suns  and  moons  and  stars  that  you  '11  have 
to  keep  scoured  and  bright!  But  with  the 
92 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

whole  green  earth  for  your  carpet,  and  shin 
ing  heaven  for  your  roof -tree,  and  God 
Himself  for  your  landlord,  now  would  n't 
you  be  a  fool,  if  you  weren't  quite  satis 
fied?'" 

"'If  —  you  —  weren't  —  quite  satis 
fied,'  "  finished  Barton  mumblingly. 

Little  Eve  Edgarton  lifted  her  great  eyes, 
soft  with  sorrow,  sharp  with  tears,  almost 
defiantly  to  Barton's. 

"  That 's  —  what  —  Mother  said,"  she 
faltered.  "  But  all  the  same  —  I  'd  RATHER 
HAVE  A  HOUSE!  " 

"  Why,  you  poor  kid ! "  said  Barton. 
"  You  ought  to  have  a  house !  It 's  a 
shame !  It 's  a  beastly  shame !  It 's  a  — " 

Very  softly  in  the  darkness  his  hand 
grazed  hers. 

"  Did  you  touch  my  hand  on  purpose,  or 
just  accidentally?"  asked  Eve  Edgarton, 
without  a  flicker  of  expression  on  her  up 
turned,  gold-colored  face. 

"  Why,  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  laughed 
Barton.  "  Maybe  —  maybe  it  was  a  little 
of  each." 

93 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

With  absolute  gravity  little  Eve  Edgarton 
kept  right  on  staring  at  him.  "  I  don't 
know  whether  I  should  ever  specially  like 
you  —  or  not,  Mr.  Barton,"  she  drawled. 
"  But  you  are  certainly  very  beauti 
ful!" 

"  Oh,  I  say !  "  cried  Barton  wretchedly. 
With  a  really  desperate  effort  he  struggled 
almost  to  his  feet,  tottered  for  an  instant, 
and  then  came  sagging  down  to  the  soft 
earth  again  —  a  great,  sprawling,  spineless 
heap,  at  little  Eve  Edgarton's  feet. 

Unflinchingly,  as  if  her  wrists  were  built 
of  steel  wires,  the  girl  jumped  up  and  pulled 
and  tugged  and  yanked  his  almost  dead 
weight  into  a  sitting  posture  again. 

"My!  But  you're  chock-full  of  light 
ning!"  she  commiserated  with  him. 

Out  of  the  utter  rage  and  mortification 
of  his  helplessness  Barton  could  almost  have 
cursed  her  for  her  sympathy.  Then  sud 
denly,  without  warning,  a  little  gasp  of  sheer 
tenderness  escaped  him. 

"  Eve  Edgarton,"  he  stammered,  "  you  're 
—  a  —  brick!  You  —  you  must  have  been 
94 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

invented  just  for  the  sole  purpose  of  saving 
people's  lives.  Oh,  you  've  saved  mine  all 
right !  "  he  acknowledged  soberly.  "  And 
all  this  black,  blasted  night  you  've  nursed 
me  —  and  fed  me  —  and  jollied  me  —  with 
out  a  whimper  about  yourself  —  without  — 
a  — "  Impulsively  he  reached  out  his  numb- 
palmed  hand  to  her,  and  her  own  hand 
came  so  cold  to  it  that  it  might  have  been 
the  caress  of  one  ghost  to  another.  "  Eve 
Edgarton,"  he  reiterated,  "  I  tell  you  — 
you  're  a  brick !  And  I  'm  a  fool  —  and  a 
slob  —  and  a  mutt-head  —  even  when  I  'm 
not  chock-full  of  lightning,  as  you  call  it! 
But  if  there  's  ever  anything  I  can  do  for 
you!" 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  "  muttered  little  Eve 
Edgarton. 

"  I  said  you  were  a  brick !  "  repeated  Bar 
ton  a  bit  irritably. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  did  n't  mean  —  that,"  mused 
the  girl.  "  But  what  was  the  —  last  thing 
you  said  ?  " 

"  Oh !  "  grinned  Barton  more  cheerfully. 
"  I  said  —  if  there  was  ever  anything 

95 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

that    I    could    do    for    you,    anything — " 
"Would  you  rent  me  your  attic?"  asked 
little  Eve  Edgarton. 

"  Would  I  rent  you  my  attic  ?  "  stammered 
Barton.  "  Why  in  the  world  should  you 
want  to  hire  my  attic  ?  " 

"  So  I  could  buy  pretty  things  in  Siam  — 
or  Ceylon  —  or  any  other  queer  country  — 
and  have  some  place  to  send  them,"  said  little 
Eve  Edgarton.  "  Oh,  I  'd  pay  the  express, 
Mr.  Barton,"  she  hastened  to  assure  him. 
"  Oh,  I  promise  you  there  never  would  be 
any  trouble  about  the  express!  Or  about 
the  rent !  "  Expeditiously  as  she  spoke  she 
reached  for  her  hip  pocket  and  brought  out 
a  roll  of  bills  that  fairly  took  Barton's 
breath  away.  "If  there  's  one  thing  in  the 
world,  you  know,  that  I  've  got,  it 's  money," 
she  confided  perfectly  simply.  "  So  you 
see,  Mr.  Barton,"  she  added  with  sudden 
wistfulness,  "  there  's  almost  nothing  on  the 
face  of  the  globe  that  I  couldn't  have  —  if 
I  only  had  some  place  to  put  it."  Without 
further  parleying  she  proffered  the  roll  of 
bills  to  him. 

96 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Miss  Edgarton !  Are  you  crazy  ? " 
Barton  asked  again  quite  precipitously. 

Again  the  girl  answered  his  question 
equally  frankly,  and  without  offense.  "  Oh, 
no,"  she  said.  "  Only  very  determined." 

"  Determined  about  what?  "  grinned  Bar 
ton  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  Determined  about  an  attic,"  drawled  lit 
tle  Eve  Edgarton. 

With  an  unwonted  touch  of  vivacity  she 
threw  out  one  hand  in  a  little,  sharp  gesture 
of  appeal ;  but  not  a  tone  of  her  voice  either 
quickened  or  deepened. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Barton,"  she  droned,  "  I  'm 
thirty  years  old  —  and  ever  since  I  was  born 
I  Ve  been  traveling  all  over  the  world  —  in 
a  steamer  trunk.  In  a  steamer  trunk,  mind 
you.  With  Father  always  standing  over 
every  packing  to  make  sure  that  we  never 
carry  anything  that  —  is  n't  necessary. 
With  Father,  I  said,"  she  re-emphasized  by 
a  sudden  distinctness.  "  You  know 
Father ! "  she  added  significantly. 

"  Yes  —  I  know  *  Father,'  "  assented  Bar 
ton  with  astonishing  glibness. 

97 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Once  again  the  girl  threw  out  her  hand 
in  an  incongruous  gesture  of  appeal. 

"  The  things  that  Father  thinks  are  neces 
sary!"  she  exclaimed  softly.  Noiselessly 
as  a  shadow  she  edged  herself  forward  into 
the  light  till  she  faced  Barton  almost 
squarely.  "  Maybe  you  think  it 's  fun,  Mr. 
Barton,"  she  whispered.  "  Maybe  you  think 
it 's  fun  —  at  thirty  years  of  age  —  with  all 
your  faculties  intact  —  to  own  nothing  in 
the  world  except  —  except  a  steamer  trunk- 
ful  of  the  things  that  Father  thinks  are  nec 
essary  ! " 

Very  painstakingly  on  the  fingers  of  one 
hand  she  began  to  enumerate  the  articles  in 
question.  "Just  your  riding  togs,"  she 
said,  "  and  six  suits  of  underwear  —  and  all 
the  United  States  consular  reports  —  and 
two  or  three  wash  dresses  and  two  *  good 
enough  '  dresses  —  and  a  lot  of  quinine  — 
and  —  a  squashed  hat  —  and  —  and — " 
Very  faintly  the  ghost  of  a  smile  went  flick 
ering  over  her  lips  — "  and  whatever  micro 
scopes  and  specimen-cases  get  crowded  out 
of  Father's  trunk.  What 's  the  use,  Mn 
98 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Barton,"  she  questioned,  "  of  spending  a 
whole  year  investigating  the  silk  industry 
of  China  —  if  you  can't  take  any  of  the  silks 
home  ?  What 's  the  use,  Mr.  Barton,  of 
rolling  up  your  sleeves  and  working  six 
months  in  a  heathen  porcelain  factory  — 
just  to  study  glaze  —  if  you  don't  own  a 
china-closet  in  any  city  on  the  face  of  the 
earth?  Why  —  sometimes,  Mr.  Barton," 
she  confided,  "  it  seems  as  if  I  'd  die  a  hor 
rible  death  if  I  could  n't  buy  things  the  way 
other  people  do  —  and  send  them  somewhere 
—  even  if  it  was  n't  *  home ' !  The  world  is 
so  full  of  beautiful  things,"  she  mused. 
"  White  enamel  bath-tubs  —  and  Persian 
rugs  —  and  the  most  ingenious  little  egg- 
beaters  —  and  — " 

"  Eh  ?  "  stammered  Barton.  Quite  des 
perately  he  rummaged  his  brain  for  some 
sane-sounding  expression  of  understanding 
and  sympathy. 

"  You  could,  I  suppose,"  he  ventured,  not 
too  intelligently,  "  buy  the  things  and  give 
them  to  other  people." 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course,"  conceded  little  Eve 
99 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Edgarton  without  enthusiasm.  "  Oh,  yes, 
of  course,  you  can  always  buy  people  the 
things  they  want.  But  understand,"  she 
said,  "  there  's  very  little  satisfaction  in  buy 
ing  the  things  you  want  to  give  to  people 
who  don't  want  them.  I  tried  it  once,"  she 
confided,  "  and  it  did  n't  work. 

"  The  winter  we  were  in  Paraguay,"  she 
went  on,  "  in  some  stale  old  English  news 
paper  I  saw  an  advertisement  of  a  white 
bedroom  set.  There  were  eleven  pieces,  and 
it  was  adorable,  and  it  cost  eighty-two 
pounds  —  and  I  thought  after  I  'd  had  the 
fun  of  unpacking  it,  I  could  give  it  to  a 
woman  I  knew  who  had  a  tea  plantation. 
But  the  instant  she  got  it  —  she  painted  it 

—  green !     Now  when  you  send  to  England 
for  eleven  pieces  of  furniture  because  they 
are  white,"  sighed  little  Eve  Edgarton,  "  and 
have  them  crated  —  because  they  're  white 

—  and  sent  to  sea  because  they  're  white 

—  and  then  carried  overland  —  miles  and 
miles  and  miles  —  on  Indians'  heads  —  be 
cause  they  're  white,  you  sort  of  want  'em 
to  stay  white.     Oh,  of  course  it 's  all  right," 

100 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

she  acknowledged  patiently.  "  The  Tea 
Woman  was  nice,  and  the  green  paint  by  no 
means  —  altogether  bad.  Only,  looking 
back  now  on  our  winter  in  Paraguay,  I  seem 
to  have  missed  somehow  the  particular  thrill 
that  I  paid  eighty-two  pounds  and  all  that 
freightage  for." 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  agreed  Barton.  He 
could  see  that. 

"So  if  you  could  rent  me  your  attic  — " 
she  resumed  almost  blithely. 

"  But  my  dear  child,"  interrupted  Bar 
ton,  "  what  possible  — " 

"  Why  —  I  'd  have  a  place  then  to  send 
things  to,"  argued  little  Eve  Edgarton. 

"  But  you  're  off  on  the  high  seas  Satur 
day,  you  say,"  laughed  Barton. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  explained  little  Eve  Ed 
garton  just  a  bit  impatiently.  "  But  the 
high  seas  are  so  dull,  Mr.  Barton.  And 
then  we  sail  so  long ! "  she  complained. 
"  And  so  far !  —  via  this,  via  that,  via  every 
other  stupid  old  port  in  the  world!  Why, 
it  will  be  months  and  months  before  we  ever 
reach  Melbourne!  And  of  course  on  every 
101 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

steamer,"  she  began  to  monotone,  "  of  course 
on  every  steamer  there  '11  be  some  one  with 
a  mixed-up  collection  of  shells  or  coins  — 
and  that  will  take  all  my  mornings.  And 
of  course  on  every  steamer  there  '11  be  some 
body  struggling  with  the  Chinese  alphabet 
or  the  Burmese  accents  —  and  that  will  take 
all  my  afternoons.  But  in  the  evenings 
when  people  are  just  having  fun,"  she  kin 
dled  again,  "  and  nobody  wants  me  for  any 
thing,  why,  then  you  see  I  could  steal  'way 
up  in  the  bow  —  where  you  're  not  allowed 
to  go  —  and  think  about  my  beautiful  attic. 
It 's  pretty  lonesome,"  she  whispered,  "  all 
snuggled  up  there  alone  with  the  night,  and 
the  spray  and  the  sailors'  shouts,  if  you 
have  n't  got  anything  at  all  to  think  about 
except  just  '  What 's  ahead  ?  —  What 's 
ahead  ?  —  What 's  ahead  ? '  And  even  that 
belongs  to  God,"  she  sighed  a  bit  ruefully. 

With  a  quick  jerk  she  edged  herself  even 
closer  to  Barton  and  sat  staring  up  at  him 
with  her  tousled  head  cocked  on  one  side 
like  an  eager  terrier. 

"So  if  you  just  —  could,  Mr.  Barton!" 
1 02 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

she  began  all  over  again.  "  And  oh,  I  know 
it  could  n't  be  any  real  bother  to  you ! "  she 
hastened  to  reassure  him.  "  Because  after 
Saturday,  you  know,  I  '11  probably  never  • — 
never  be  in  America  again !  " 

"  Then  what  satisfaction,"  laughed  Bar 
ton,  "  could  you  possibly  get  in  filling  up  an 
attic  with  things  that  you  will  never  see 
again  ?  " 

"  What  satisfaction?  "  repeated  little  Eve 
Edgarton  perplexedly.  "  What  satisfac 
tion  ?  "  Between  her  placid  brows  a  very 
black  frown  deepened.  "  Why,  just  the  sat 
isfaction,"  she  said,  "  of  knowing  before  you 
die,  that  you  had  definitely  diverted  to  your 
own  personality  that  much  specific  treasure 
out  of  the  —  out  of  the  —  world's  chaotic 
maelstrom  of  generalities." 

"Eh?"  said  Barton.  "What?  For 
Heaven's  sake  say  it  again !  " 

"Why  —  just  the  satisfaction — "  began 
Eve  Edgarton.  Then  abruptly  the  sullen 
lines  grayed  down  again  around  her  mouth. 

"  It  seems  funny  to  me,  Mr.  Barton,"  she 
almost  whined,  "  that  anybody  as  big  as  you 
103 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

are  —  should  n't  be  able  to  understand  any 
body  as  little  as  —  I  am.  But  if  I  only  had 
an  attic ! "  she  cried  out  with  apparent  ir 
relevance.  "  Oh,  if  just  once  in  my  whole 
life  I  could  have  even  so  much  as  an  attic- 
ful  of  home!  Oh,  please  —  please  — 
please,  Mr.  Barton !  "  she  pleaded.  "  Oh, 
please ! " 

Precipitously  she  lifted  her  small  brown 
face  to  his,  and  in  her  eyes  he  saw  the 
strangest  little  unfinished  expression  flame 
up  suddenly  and  go  out  again,  a  little  fleet 
ing  expression  so  sweet,  so  shy,  so  transcend- 
ently  lovely,  that  if  it  had  ever  lived  to  reach 
her  frowning  brow,  her  sulky  little  mouth, 
her  —  ! 

Then  startlingly  into  his  stare,  into  his 
amazement,  broke  a  great  white  glare 
through  the  opening  of  the  cave. 

"  My  God ! "  he  winced,  with  his  elbow 
across  his  eyes. 

"Why,  it  isn't  lightning!"  laughed  little 

Eve  Edgarton.     "  It 's  the  moon !  "     Quick 

as  a  sprite  she  flashed  to  her  feet  and  ran 

out  into  the  moonlight.     "  We  can  go  home 

104 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

now ! "  she  called  back  triumphantly  over 
her  shoulder. 

"  Oh,  we  can,  can  we?  "  snapped  Barton. 
His  nerves  were  strangely  raw.  He  strug 
gled  to  his  knees,  and  tottered  there  watch 
ing  the  cheeky  little  moonbeams  lap  up  the 
mystery  of  the  cave,  and  scare  the  yel 
low  lantern-flame  into  a  mere  sallow 
glow. 

Poignantly  from  the  forest  he  heard  Eve 
Edgarton's  voice  calling  out  into  the 
night.  "  Come  —  Mother's  —  horse !  Come 
—  Mother's  —  horse  H  —  o  —  o,  hoo ! 
Come  —  come  —  come !  "  Softly  above  the 
crackle  of  twigs,  the  thud  of  a  hoof,  the 
creak  of  a  saddle,  he  sensed  the  long,  trem 
ulous,  answering  whinny.  Then  almost 
like  a  silver  apparition  the  girl's  figure  and 
the  horse's  seemed  to  merge  together  before 
him  in  the  moonlight. 

"  Well  —  of  —  all  —  things !  "  stammered 
Barton. 

"  Oh,  the  horse  is  all  right.  I  thought 
he'd  stay  'round,"  called  the  girl.  "But 
he  's  wild  as  a  hawk  —  and  it 's  going  to  be 
105 


the  dickens  of  a  job,  I  'm  afraid,  to  get  you 
up." 

Half  walking,  half  crawling,  Barton 
emerged  from  the  cave.  "  To  get  me  up  ?  " 
he  scoffed.  "  Well,  what  do  you  think 
you  're  going  to  do  ?  "  Limply  as  he  asked 
he  sank  back  against  the  support  of  a 
tree. 

"  Why,  I  think,"  drawled  Eve  Edgarton, 
"  I  think  —  very  naturally  —  that  you  're 
going  to  ride  —  and  I  'm  going  to  walk  — 
back  to  the  hotel." 

"  Well,  I  am  not ! "  snapped  Barton. 
"  Well,  you  are  not !  "  he  protested  vehe 
mently.  "  For  Heaven's  sake,  Miss  Ed 
garton,  why  don't  you  go  scooting  back  on 
the  gray  and  send  a  wagon  or  something 
for  me?" 

"  Why,  because  it  would  make  —  such  a 
fuss,"  droned  little  Eve  Edgarton  drearily. 
"  Doors  would  bang  —  and  lights  would 
blaze  —  and  somebody  'd  scream  —  and  — 
and  —  you  make  so  much  fuss  when  you  're 
born,"  she  said,  "  and  so  much  fuss  when 
you  die  —  don't  you  think  it 's  sort  of  nice 
1 06 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

to  keep  things  as  quietly  to  yourself  as  you 
can  all  the  rest  of  your  days?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  acknowledged  Barton. 
"But—" 

"  But  NOTHING  ! "  stamped  little  Eve 
Edgarton  with  sudden  passion.  "  Oh,  Mr. 
Barton  —  won't  you  please  hurry !  It 's  al 
most  dawn  now!  And  the  nice  hotel  cook 
is  very  sick  in  a  cot  bed.  And  I  promised 
her  faithfully  this  noon  that  I  'd  make  four 
hundred  muffins  for  breakfast!  " 

"  Oh,  confound  it !  "  said  Barton. 

Stumblingly  he  reached  the  big  gray's 
side. 

"  But  it 's  miles !  "  he  protested  in  com 
mon  decency.  "  Miles !  —  and  miles ! 
Rough  walking,  too,  darned  rough!  And 
your  poor  little  feet — " 

"  I  don't  walk  particularly  with  my  '  poor 
little  feet/  "  gibed  Eve  Edgarton.  "  Most 
especially,  thank  you,  Mr.  Barton,  I  walk 
with  my  big  wanting-to-walk !  " 

"Oh,"     said     Barton.     "O  —  h."     The 
bones  in  his  knees  began  suddenly  to  slump 
like  so  many  knots  of  tissue-paper.     "  Oh 
107 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

—  all  right  —  Eve !  "  he  called  out  a  bit  haz- 
ily. 

Then  slowly  and  laboriously,  with  a  very 
good  imitation  of  meekness,  he  allowed 
himself  to  be  pulled  and  pushed  and  jerked 
to  the  top  of  an  old  tree-stump,  and  from 
there  at  last,  with  many  tricks  and  tugs  and 
subterfuges,  to  the  cramping  side-saddle  of 
the  restive,  rearing  gray.  Helplessly  in  the 
clear  white  moonlight  he  watched  the  girl's 
neck  muscles  cord  and  strain.  Helplessly 
in  the  clear  white  moonlight  he  heard  the 
girl's  breath  rip  and  tear  like  a  dry  sob  out 
of  her  gasping  lungs.  And  then  at  last, 
blinded  with  sweat,  dizzy  with  weakness,  as 
breathless  as  herself,  as  wrenched,  as  tri 
umphant,  he  found  himself  clinging  fast  to 
a  worn  suede  pommel,  jogging  jerkily  down 
the  mountainside  with  Eve  Edgarton's  doll- 
sized  hand  dragging  hard  on  the  big  gray's 
curb  and  her  whole  tiny  weight  shoved  back 
aslant  and  astrain  against  the  big  gray's  too 
eager  shoulder  —  little  droll,  colorless, 
"  meek  "  Eve  Edgarton,  after  her  night  of 
stress  and  terror,  with  her  precious  scrap- 
108 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

book  still  hugged  tight  under  one  arm 
striding  stanchly  home  through  the  rough- 
footed,  woodsy  night  to  "make  four  hun 
dred  muffins  for  breakfast! " 

At  the  first  crook  in  the  trail  she  glanced 
back  hastily  over  her  shoulder  into  the 
rustling  shadows.  "  Good-by,  Cave !  "  she 
called  softly.  "Good-by,  Cave!"  And 
once  when  some  tiny  woods-animal  scuttled 
out  from  under  her  feet  she  smiled  up  a  bit 
appealingly  at  Barton.  Several  times  they 
stopped  for  water  at  some  sudden  noisy 
brook.  And  once,  or  twice,  or  even  three 
times  perhaps,  when  some  blinding  daze  of 
dizziness  overwhelmed  him,  she  climbed  up 
with  one  foot  into  the  roomy  stirrup  and 
steadied  his  swaying,  unfeeling  body  against 
her  own  little  harsh,  reassuring,  flannel- 
shirted  breast. 

Mile  after  mile  through  the  jet-black  lat 
tice-work  of  the  tree-tops  the  August  moon 
spotted  brightly  down  on  them.  Mile  after 
mile  through  rolling  pastures  the  moon- 
plaited  stubble  crackled  and  sucked  like  a 
sheet  of  wet  ice  under  their  feet,  then  roads 
109 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

began  —  mere  molten  bogs  of  mud  and 
moonlight;  and  little  frail  roadside  bushes 
drunk  with  rain  lay  wallowing  helplessly  in 
every  hollow. 

Out  of  this  pristine,  uninhabited  wilder 
ness  the  hotel  buildings  loomed  at  last  with 
startling  conventionality.  Even  before 
their  discreetly  shuttered  windows  Barton 
winced  back  again  with  a  sudden  horrid  new 
realization  of  his  half -nakedness. 

"For  Heaven's  sake!"  he  cried,  "let's 
sneak  in  the  back  way  somewhere!  Oh 
Lordy!  —  what  a  sight  I  am  to  meet  your 
father!" 

"What  a  sight  you  are  to  —  meet  my 
father?"  repeated  Eve  Edgarton  with  as 
tonishment.  "  Oh,  please  don't  insist  on 
waking  up  Father,"  she  begged.  "  He 
hates  so  to  be  waked  up.  Oh,  of  course  if 
I  'd  been  hurt  it  would  have  been  courteous 
of  you  to  tell  him,"  she  explained  seriously. 
"  But,  oh,  I  'm  sure  he  would  n't  like  your 
waking  him  up  just  to  tell  him  that  you  got 
hurt!" 

Softly  under  her  'breath  she  began  to 
no 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

whistle  toward  a  shadow  in  the  stable-yard. 
"  Usually,"  she  whispered,  "  there 's  a 
sleepy  stable-boy  lying  round  here  some 
where.  Oh  —  Bob !  "  she  summoned. 

Rollingly  the  shadow  named  "  Bob " 
struggled  to  its  very  real  feet. 

"Here,  Bob!"  she  ordered.  "Come 
help  Mr.  Barton.  He 's  pretty  badly  off. 
We  got  sort  of  struck  by  lightning.  And 
two  of  us  —  got  killed.  Go  help  him  up 
stairs.  Do  anything  he  wants.  But  don't 
make  any  fuss.  He  '11  be  all  right  in  the 
morning." 

Gravely  she  put  out  her  hand  to  Barton, 
and  nodded  to  the  boy. 

"Good  night!"  she  said.  "And  good 
night,  Bob !  " 

Shrewdly  for  a  moment  she  stood  watch 
ing  them  out  of  sight,  shivered  a  little  at  the 
clatter  of  a  box  kicked  over  in  some  remote 
shed,  and  then  swinging  round  quickly, 
ripped  the  hot  saddle  from  the  big  gray's 
back,  slipped  the  bit  from  his  tortured 
tongue,  and,  turning  him  loose  with  one 
sharp  slap  on  his  gleaming  flank,  yanked  off 
in 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

her  own  riding-boots  and  went  scudding  off 
in  her  stocking- feet  through  innumerable 
doors  and  else  till,  reaching  the  great  empty 
office,  she  caromed  off  suddenly  up  three 
flights  of  stairs  to  her  own  apartment. 

Once  in  her  room  her  little  traveling-clock 
told  her  it  was  a  quarter  of  three. 

"Whew!"  she  said.  Just  "Whew!" 
Very  furiously  at  the  big  porcelain  wash 
bowl  she  began  to  splash  and  splash  and 
splash.  "  If  I  Ve  got  to  make  four  hundred 
muffins,"  she  said,  "  I  surely  have  got  to  be 
whiter  than  snow !  " 

Roused  by  the  racket,  her  father  came  ir 
ritably  and  stood  in  the  doorway. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Eve ! "  he  complained, 
"  did  n't  you  get  wet  enough  in  the  storm  ? 
And  for  mercy's  sake  where  have  you 
been?" 

Out  of  the  depths  of  her  dripping  hair 
and  her  big  plushy  bath-towel  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton  considered  her  father  only  casually. 

"  Don't  delay  me !  "  she  said,  "  I  've  got 
to  make  four  hundred  muffins !  And  I  'm 
so  late  I  haven't  even  time  to  change  my 
112 


"  Don't  delay  me!"  she  said,  "  I've  got  to  make  four  hundred 
muffins  '  " 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

clothes!  We  got  struck  by  lightning,"  she 
added  purely  incidentally.  "  That  is  — 
sort  of  struck  by  lightning.  That  is,  Mr. 
Barton  got  sort  of  struck  by  lightning. 
And  oh,  glory,  Father !  "  her  voice  kindled 
a  little.  "  And,  oh,  glory,  Father,  I  thought 
he  was  gone!  Twice  in  the  hours  I  was 
working  over  him  he  stopped  breathing  al 
together  ! " 

Palpably  the  vigor  died  out  of  her  voice 
again.  "  Father,"  she  drawled  mumblingly 
through  intermittent  flops  of  bath-towel; 
"  Father  —  you  said  I  could  keep  the  next 
thing  I  —  saved.  '  Do  you  think  I  could  — 
keep  him  ?  " 


CHAPTER  III 

'TT7HAT?"  demanded  her  father. 

VV  Altogether  unexpectedly  little 
Eve  Edgarton  threw  back  her  tousled  head 
and  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Oh,  Father !  "  she  jeered.  "  Can't  you 
take  a  joke?  " 

"  I  don't  know  as  you  ever  offered  me  one 
before,"  growled  her  father  a  bit  ungra 
ciously. 

"All  the  same,"  asserted  little  Eve  Ed 
garton  with  sudden  seriousness  — "  all  the 
same,  Father,  he  did  stop  breathing  twice. 
And  I  worked  and  I  worked  and  I  worked 
over  him ! "  Slowly  her  great  eyes  wid 
ened. 

"  And  oh,  Father,  his  skin ! "  she  whis 
pered  simply. 

"  Hush !  "  snapped  her  father  with  a  great 
gust  of  resentment  that  he  took  to  be  a  gust 
of  propriety.     "  Hush,  I  say!     I  tell  you  it 
116 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

is  n't  delicate  for  a  —  for  a  girl  to  talk  about 
a  man's  skin !  " 

"  Oh  —  but  his  skin  was  very  delicate," 
mused  little  Eve  Edgarton  persistently. 
"  There  in  the  lantern  light  — " 

"  What  lantern  light  ? "  demanded  her 
father. 

"And  the  moonlight,"  murmured  little 
Eve  Edgarton. 

"  What  moonlight  ? "  demanded  her 
father.  A  trifle  quizzically  he  stepped  for 
ward  and  peered  into  his  daughter's  face. 
"  Personally,  Eve,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  care 
for  the  young  man.  And  I  certainly  don't 
wish  to  hear  anything  about  his  skin.  Not 
anything !  Do  you  understand  ?  I  'm  very 
glad  you  saved  his  life,"  he  hastened  to  af 
firm.  "  It  was  very  commendable  of  you, 
I  'm  sure,  and  some  one,  doubtless,  will  be 
very  much  relieved.  But  for  me  personally 
the  incident  is  closed !  Closed,  I  said.  Do 
you  understand  ?  " 

Bruskly  he  turned  back  toward  his  own 
room,  and  then  swung  around  again  sud 
denly  in  the  doorway. 

117 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Eve,"  he  frowned.  "  That  was  a  joke 
—  was  n't  it  ?  —  what  you  said  about  want 
ing  to  keep  that  young  man  ?  " 

"Why,  of  course!"  said  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton. 

"  Well,  I  must  say  —  it  was  an  exceed 
ingly  clumsy  one!"  growled  her  father  ir 
ritably. 

"  Maybe  so,"  droned  little  Eve  Edgarton 
with  unruffled  serenity.  "  It  was  the  first 
joke,  you  see,  that  I  ever  made."  Slowly 
again  her  eyes  began  to  widen.  "  All  the 
same,  Father,"  she  said,  "  his  — " 

"  Hush !  "  he  ordered,  and  slammed  the 
door  conclusively  behind  him. 

Very  thoughtfully  for  a  moment  little 
Eve  Edgarton  kept  right  on  standing  there 
in  the  middle  of  the  room.  In  her  eyes  was 
just  the  faintest  possible  suggestion  of  a 
smile.  But  there  was  no  smile  whatsoever 
about  her  lips.  Her  lips  indeed  were  quite 
drawn  and  most  flagrantly  set  with  the  ex 
pression  of  one  who,  having  something  de 
terminate  to  say,  will  —  yet  —  say  it,  some 
where,  sometime,  somehow,  though  the 
118 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

skies  fall  and  all  the  waters  of  the  earth  dry 
up. 

Then  like  the  dart  of  a  bird,  she  flashed 
to  her  father's  door  and  opened  it. 

"  Father !  "  she  whispered.     "  Father !  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  half-muffled,  pil 
lowy  voice.  "  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  something  that 
happened  once  —  down  in  Indo-China," 
whispered  little  Eve  Edgarton.  "  Once 
when  you  were  away,"  she  confided  breath 
lessly,  "  I  pulled  a  half-drowned  coolie  out 
of  a  canal." 

"Well,  what  of  it?"  asked  her  father  a 
bit  tartly. 

"  Oh,  nothing  special,"  said  little  Eve  Ed 
garton,  "  except  that  his  skin  was  like  yel 
low  parchment!  And  sand-paper!  And 
old  plaster !  " 

Without  further  ado  then,  she  turned 
away,  and,  except  for  the  single  ecstatic  epi 
sode  of  making  the  four  hundred  muffins 
for  breakfast,  resumed  her  pulseless  role  of 
being  just  —  little  Eve  Edgarton. 

As   for  Barton,  the  subsequent  morning 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

hours  brought  sleep  and  sleep  only  —  the 
sort  of  sleep  that  fairly  souses  the  senses  in 
oblivion,  weighing  the  limbs  with  lead,  the 
brain  with  stupor,  till  the  sleeper  rolls  out 
from  under  the  load  at  last  like  one  half 
paralyzed  with  cramp  and  helplessness. 

Certainly  it  was  long  after  noon-time  be 
fore  Barton  actually  rallied  his  aching 
bones,  his  dizzy  head,  his  refractory  incli 
nations,  to  meet  the  fluctuant  sympathy  and 
chaff  that  awaited  him  down-stairs  in  every 
nook  and  corner  of  the  great,  idle-minded 
hotel. 

Conscientiously,  but  without  enthusiasm, 
from  the  temporary  retreat  of  the  men's 
writing-room,  he  sent  up  his  card  at  last  to 
Mr.  Edgarton,  and  was  duly  informed  that 
that  gentleman  and  his  daughter  were 
mountain-climbing.  In  an  absurd  flare  of 
disappointment  then,  he  edged  his  way 
out  through  the  prattling  piazza  groups  to 
the  shouting  tennis  players,  and  on  from  the 
shouting  tennis  players  to  the  teasing  golf 
ers,  and  back  from  the  teasing  golfers  to  the 
peaceful  writing-room,  where  in  a  great, 
1 20 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

lazy  chair  by  the  open  window  he  settled 
down  once  more  with  unwonted  morbidness 
to  brood  over  the  grimly  bizarre  happenings 
of  the  previous  night. 

In  a  soft  blur  of  sound  and  sense  the 
names  of  other  people  came  wafting  to  him 
from  time  to  time,  and  once  or  twice  at 
least  the  word  "  Barton  "  shrilled  out  at  him 
with  astonishing  poignancy.  Still  like  a 
man  half  drugged  he  dozed  again  —  and 
woke  in  a  vague,  sweating  terror  —  and 
dozed  again -7— and  dreamed  again  —  and 
roused  himself  at  last  with  the  one  violent 
determination  to  hook  his  slipping  con 
sciousness,  whether  or  no,  into  the  nearest 
conversation  that  he  could  reach. 

The  conversation  going  on  at  the  moment 
just  outside  his  window  was  not  a  particu 
larly  interesting  one  to  hook  one's  attention 
into,  but  at  least  it  was  fairly  distinct.  In 
blissfully  rational  human  voices  two  un 
known  men  were  discussing  the  non-domes 
ticity  of  the  modern  woman.  It  was  not  an 
erudite  discussion,  but  just  a  mere  personal 
complaint. 

121 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  I  had  a  house,"  wailed  one,  "  the  nicest, 
coziest  house  you  ever  saw.  We  were  two 
years  building  it.  And  there  was  a  garden 
—  a  real  jim-dandy  flower  and  vegetable 
garden  —  and  there  were  twenty-seven 
fruit-trees.  But  my  wife  — "  the  wail  deep 
ened — "my  wife  —  she  just  would  live  in 
a  hotel !  Could  n't  stand  the  *  strain,'  she 
said,  of  '  planning  food  three  times  a  day ' ! 
Not  — '  could  n't  stand  the  strain  of  earning 
meals  three  times  a  day ' —  you  under 
stand,"  the  wailing  voice  added  significantly, 
"  but  could  n't  stand  the  strain  of  ordering 
'em.  People  all  around  you,  you  know, 
starving  to  death  for  just  —  bread ;  but  she 
could  n't  stand  the  strain  of  having  to 
decide  between  squab  and  tenderloin! 
Eh?" 

"  Oh,  Lordy !  You  can't  tell  me  any 
thing!"  snapped  the  other  voice  more  in 
cisively.  "  Houses  ?  I  've  had  four ! 
First  it  was  the  cellar  my  wife  wanted  to 
eliminate !  Then  it  was  the  attic !  Then  it 
was  —  We  're  living  in  an  apartment 
now !  "  he  finished  abruptly.  "  An  apart- 
122 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

ment,  mind  you!  One  of  those  blankety  — 
blank  —  blank  —  blank  apartments !  " 

"  Humph !  "  wailed  the  first  voice  again. 
"  There  's  hardly  a  woman  you  meet  these 
days  who  has  n't  got  rouge  on  her  cheeks, 
but  a  man  's  got  to  go  back  —  two  genera 
tions,  I  guess,  if  he  wants  to  find  one  that 's 
got  any  flour  on  her  nose !  " 

"  Flour  on  her  nose  ?  "  interrupted  the 
sharper  voice.  "  Flour  on  her  nose  ?v  Oh, 
ye  gods !  I  don't  believe  there  's  a  woman 
in  this  whole  hotel  who  'd  know  flour  if  she 
saw  it !  Women  don't  care  any  more,  I  tell 
you !  They  don't  care !  " 

Just  as  a  mere  bit  of  physical  stimulus  the 
crescendoish  stridency  of  the  speech  roused 
Barton  to  a  lazy  smile.  Then,  altogether 
unexpectedly,  across  indifference,  across 
drowsiness,  across  absolute  physical  and 
mental  non-concern,  the  idea  behind  the 
speech  came  hurtling  to  him  and  started  him 
bolt  upright  in  his  chair. 

"  Ha !  "  he  thought.  "  I  know  a  girl  that 
cares !  "  From  head  to  foot  a  sudden  warm 
sense  of  satisfaction  glowed  through  him,  a 
123 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

throb  of   pride,   a  puffiness  of   the   chest. 
"Ha!  "he  gloated.     "H— " 

Then  interruptingly  from  outside  the  win 
dow  he  heard  the  click  of  chairs  hitching  a 
bit  nearer  together. 

"  Sst !  "  whispered  one  voice.  "  Who  's 
the  freak  in  the  1830  clothes?" 

"  Why,  that  ?  Why,  that 's  the  little  Ed- 
garton  girl,"  piped  the  other  voice  cau 
tiously.  "It  isn't  so  much  the  '1830 
clothes '  as  the  1830  expression  that  gets 
me !  Where  in  creation  — " 

"  Oh,  upon  my  soul,"  groaned  the  man 
whose  wife  "  would  live  in  a  hotel."  "  Oh, 
upon  my  soul  —  if  there  's  one  thing  that  I 
can't  stand  it 's  a  woman  who  has  n't  any 
style!  If  I  had  my  way,"  he  threatened 
with  hissing  emphasis,  "  if  I  had  my  way,  I 
tell  you,  I  'd  have  every  homely  looking 
woman  in  the  world  put  out  of  her  misery! 
Put  out  of  my  misery  —  is  what  I  mean !  " 

"Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"  chuckled  the  other 
voice. 

"  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  "  gibed  both  voices  ec 
statically  together. 

124 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

With  quite  unnecessary  haste  Barton 
sprang  to  the  window  and  looked  out. 

It  was  Eve  Edgarton !  And  she  did  look 
funny!  Not  especially  funny,  but  just 
plain,  every-day  little-Eve-Edgarton  funny, 
in  a  shabby  old  English  tramping  suit,  with 
a  knapsack  slung  askew  across  one  shoul 
der,  a  faded  Alpine  hat  yanked  down  across 
her  eyes,  and  one  steel-wristed  little  hand 
dragging  a  mountain  laurel  bush  almost  as 
big  as  herself.  Close  behind  her  followed 
her  father,  equally  shabby,  his  shapeless 
pockets  fairly  bulging  with  rocks,  a  battered 
tin  botany  kit  in  one  hand,  a  dingy  black 
camera-box  in  the  other. 

Impulsively  Barton  started  out  to  meet 
them,  but  just  a  step  from  the  threshold  of 
the  piazza  door  he  sensed  for  the  first  time 
the  long  line  of  smokers  watching  the  two 
figures  grinningly  above  their  puffy  brown 
pipes  and  cigars. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  called  one  smoker  to 
another.  "  Moving  Day  in  Jungle 
Town?" 

"Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"  tittered  the  whole 
125 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

line  of  smokers.  "Ha!  — Ha!  Ha!  Ha! 
—  Ha!" 

So,  because  he  belonged,  not  so  much  to 
the  type  of  person  that  can't  stand  having 
its  friends  laughed  at,  as  to  the  type  that 
can't  stand  having  friends  who  are  liable  to 
be  laughed  at,  Barton  changed  his  mind 
quite  precipitately  about  identifying  himself 
at  that  particular  moment  with  the  Edgar- 
ton  family,  and  whirled  back  instead  to  the 
writing-room.  There,  by  the  aid  of  the 
hotel  clerk,  and  two  bell-boys,  and  three 
new  blotters,  and  a  different  pen,  and  an  en 
tirely  fresh  bottle  of  ink,  and  just  exactly 
the  right-sized,  the  right-tinted  sort  of  let 
ter  paper,  he  concocted  a  perfectly  charm 
ing  note  to  little  Eve  Edgarton  —  a  note 
full  of  compliment,  of  gratitude,  of  sincere 
appreciation,  a  note  reiterating  even  once 
more  his  persistent  intention  of  rendering 
her  somewhere,  sometime,  a  really  signifi 
cant  service ! 

Whereupon,  thus  duly  relieved  of  his 
truly  honest  effort  at  self-expression,  he 
went  back  again  to  his  own  kind  —  to  the 
126 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

prattling,  the  well-groomed,  the  ultra-fash 
ionables  of  both  mind  and  body.  And  there 
on  the  shining  tennis-courts  and  the  soft 
golf  greens,  through  the  late  yellow  after 
noon  and  the  first  gray  threat  of  twilight, 
the  old  sickening  ennui  came  creeping  back 
to  his  senses,  warring  chaotically  there  with 
the  natural  nervous  reaction  of  his  recent 
adventure,  till  just  out  of  sheer  morbid  un 
rest,  as  soon  as  the  flower-scented,  candle- 
lighted  dinner  hour  was  over,  he  went  stalk 
ing  round  an4  round  the  interminable  piaz 
zas,  hunting  in  every  dark  corner  for  Mr. 
Edgarton  and  his  daughter. 

Meeting  them  abruptly  at  last  in  the  full 
glare  of  the  office,  he  clutched  fatuously  at 
Mr.  Edgarton's  reluctant  attention  with 
some  quick  question  about  the  extraordi 
nary  moonlight,  and  stood  by,  grinning  like 
any  bashful  schoolboy,  while  Mr.  Edgarton 
explained  to  him  severely,  as  if  it  were  his 
fault,  just  why  and  to  what  extent  the  radii 
of  mountain  moonlight  differed  from  the 
radii  of  any  other  kind  of  moonlight,  and 
Eve  herself,  in  absolute  spiritual  remoteness, 
127 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

stood  patiently  shifting  her  weight  from  one 
foot  to  the  other,  staring  abstractedly  all  the 
time  at  the  floor  under  her  feet. 

Right  into  the  midst  of  this  instructive 
discourse  broke  one  of  Barton's  men  friends 
with  a  sharp  jog  of  his  elbow,  and  a  brief, 
apologetic  nod  to  the  Edgartons. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  Barton !  "  cried  the  new 
comer,  breathlessly.  "  That  wedding,  you 
know,  over  across  at  the  Kentons'  to-night, 
with  the  Viennese  orchestra  —  and  Heaven 
knows  what  from  New  York?  Well, 
we  Ve  shanghaied  the  whole  business  for  a 
dance  here  to-morrow  night!  Music! 
Flowers!  Palms!  Catering!  Everything! 
It  Js  going  to  be  the  biggest  little  dancing 
party  that  this  slice  of  North  American 
scenery  ever  saw !  And  — " 

Slowly  little  Eve  Edgarton  lifted  her 
great  solemn  eyes  to  the  newcomer's  face. 

" A  party? "  she  drawled.  "A  —  a  — 
dancing  party  —  you  mean  ?  A  real  — 
Christian  —  dancing  party  ?  " 

Dully  the  big  eyes  drooped  again,  and  as 
f  in  mere  casual  mannerism  her  little  brown 
128 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

hands  went  creeping  up  to  the  white  breast 
of  her  gown.  Then  just  as  startling,  just 
as  unprovable  as  the  flash  of  a  shooting 
star,  her  glance  flashed  up  at  Barton.  . 

"  O  —  h !  "  gasped  little  Eve  Edgarton. 

«  O  —  h !  "  said  Barton. 

Astoundingly  in  his  ears  bells  seemed 
suddenly  to  be  ringing.  His  head  was 
awhirl,  his  pulses  fairly  pounding  with 
the  weird,  quixotic  purport  of  his  im 
pulse. 

"  Miss  Edgarton,"  he  began.     "  Miss  — " 

Then  right  behind  him  two  older  men 
joggled  him  awkwardly  in  passing. 

" — and  that  Miss  Von  Eaton,"  chuckled 
one  man  to  another.  "  Lordy !  There  '11 
be  more  than  forty  men  after  her  for  to 
morrow  night!  Smith!  Arnold!  Hud 
son  !  Hazeltine !  Who  are  you  betting  will 
get  her?" 

"  I  'M  BETTING  THAT  I  WILL  !  "  crashed 
every  brutally  competitive  male  instinct  in 
Barton's  body.  Impetuously  he  broke 
away  from  the  Edgartons  and  darted  off  to 
find  Miss  Von  Eaton  before  "  Smith  —  Ar- 
129 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

nold  —  Hudson  —  Hazeltine  " —  or  any 
other  man  should  find  her ! 

So  he  sent  little  Eve  Edgarton  a  great, 
gorgeous  box  of  candy  instead,  wonderful 
candy,  pounds  and  pounds  of  it,  fine,  fluted 
chocolates,  and  rose-pink  bonbons,  and  fat, 
sugared  violets,  and  all  sorts  of  tin- foiled 
mysteries  of  fruit  and  spice. 

And  when  the  night  of  the  party  came  he 
strutted  triumphantly  to  it  with  Helene  Von 
Eaton,  who  already  at  twenty  was  begin 
ning  to  be  just  a  little  bit  bored  with  parties ; 
and  together  through  all  that  riot  of  music 
and  flowers  and  rainbow  colors  and  dazzling 
lights  they  trotted  and  tangoed  with  mo 
notonous  perfection  —  the  envied  and  ad 
mired  of  all  beholders;  two  superbly  physi 
cal  young  specimens  of  manhood  and  wom 
anhood,  desperately  condoning  each  other's 
dullnesses  for  the  sake  of  each  other's  good 
looks. 

And  while  Youth  and  its  Laughter  —  a 
chaos  of  color  and  shrill  crescendos  —  was 
surging  back  and  forth  across  the  flower- 
wreathed  piazzas,  and  violins  were  wheed- 
130 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

ling,  and  Japanese  lanterns  drunk  with  can 
dle  light  were  bobbing  gaily  in  the 
balsam-scented  breeze,  little  Eve  Edgarton, 
up-stairs  in  her  own  room,  was  kneeling 
crampishly  on  the  floor  by  the  open  window, 
with  her  chin  on  the  window-sill,  staring 
quizzically  down  —  down  —  down  on  all 
that  joy  and  novelty,  till  her  father  called 
her  a  trifle  impatiently  at  last  from  his  mi 
croscope  table  on  the  other  side  of  the  room. 

"  Eve !  "  summoned  her  father.  "  What 
an  idler  you  are!  Can't  you  see  how  wor 
ried  I  am  over  this  specimen  here?  My 
eyes,  I  tell  you,  are  n't  what  they  used  to 
be." 

Then,  patiently,  little  Eve  Edgarton 
scrambled  to  her  feet  and,  crossing  over  to 
her  father's  table,  pushed  his  head  mechan 
ically  aside  and,  bending  down,  squinted  her 
own  eye  close  to  his  magnifying  glass. 

"Bell-shaped  calyx?"  she  began.  "Five 
petals  of  the  corollary  partly  united?  Why, 
it  must  be  some  relation  to  the  Mexican 
rain-tree,"  she  mumbled  without  enthusi 
asm.  "  Leaves  —  alternate,  bi-pinnate,  very 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

typically  —  few  foliate,"  she  continued. 
"  Why,  it 's  a  —  a  Pithecolobium." 

"  Sure  enough,"  said  Edgarton.  "  That 's 
what  I  thought  all  the  time." 

As  one  eminently  relieved  of  all  future 
worry  in  the  matter,  he  jumped  up,  pushed 
away  his  microscopic  work,  and,  grabbing 
up  the  biggest  book  on  the  table,  bolted  un 
ceremoniously  for  an  easy  chair. 

Indifferently  for  a  moment  little  Eve  Ed 
garton  stood  watching  him.  Then  heavily, 
like  a  sleepy,  insistent  puppy  dog,  she  sham 
bled  across  the  room  and,  climbing  up  into 
her  father's  lap,  shoved  aside  her  father's 
book,  and  burrowed  her  head  triumphantly 
back  into  the  lean,  bony  curve  of  his  shoul 
der,  her  whole  yawning  interest  centered  ap 
parently  in  the  toes  of  her  father's  slippers. 

Then  so  quietly  that  it  scarcely  seemed 
abrupt,  "  Father,"  she  asked,  "  was  my 
mother  —  beautiful  ?  " 

"  What  ?  "  gasped  Edgarton.     "  What  ?  " 

Bristling  with  a  grave  sort  of  astonish 
ment  he  reached  up  nervously  and  stroked 
his  daughter's  hair.  "  Your  mother,"  he 
132 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

winced.  "  Your  mother  was  —  to  me  — 
the  most  beautiful  woman  that  ever  lived! 
Such  expression !  "  he  glowed.  "  Such  fire ! 
But  of  such  a  spiritual  modesty!  Of  such 
a  physical  delicacy !  Like  a  rose,"  he  mused, 
"like  a  rose  —  that  should  refuse  to  bloom 
for  any  but  the  hand  that  gathered  it." 

Languorously  from  some  good  practical 
pocket  little  Eve  Edgarton  extracted  a  much 
be- frilled  chocolate  bonbon  and  sat  there 
munching  it  with  extreme  thoughtfulness. 
Then,  "  Father,"  she  whispered,  "  I  wish  I 
was  like  —  Mother." 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Edgarton,  wincing. 

"  Because  Mother  's  —  dead,"  she  an 
swered  simply. 

Noisily,  like  an  over  conscious  throat,  the 
tiny  traveling-clock  on  the  mantelpiece  be 
gan  to  swallow  its  moments.  One  mo 
ment  —  two  moments  —  three  —  four  — 
five  —  six  moments  —  seven  moments  —  on, 
on,  on,  gutturally,  laboriously  —  thirteen  — 
fourteen  —  fifteen  —  even  twenty;  with  the 
girl  still  nibbling  at  her  chocolate,  and  the 
man  still  staring  off  into  space  with  that 

133 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

strange  little  whimper  of  pain  between  his 
pale,  shrewd  eyes. 

It  was  the  man  who  broke  the  silence  first. 
Precipitately  he  shifted  his  knees  and  jostled 
his  daughter  to  her  feet. 

"  Eve,"  he  said,  "  you  're  awfully  spleeny 
to-night !  I  'm  going  to  bed."  And  he 
stalked  off  into  his  own  room,  slamming  the 
door  behind  him. 

Once  again  from  the  middle  of  the  floor 
little  Eve  Edgarton  stood  staring  blankly 
after  her  father.  Then  she  dawdled  across 
the  room  and  opened  his  door  just  wide 
enough  to  compass  the  corners  of  her  mouth. 

"  Father,"  she  whispered,  "  did  Mother 
know  that  she  was  a  rose  —  before  you  were 
clever  enough  to  find  her  ?  " 

"N  —  o,"  faltered  her  father's  husky 
voice.  "  That  was  the  miracle  of  it.  She 
never  even  dreamed  —  that  she  was  a  rose 
—  until  I  found  her." 

Very  quietly  little  Eve  Edgarton  shut  the 
door  again  and  came  back  into  the  middle 
of  her  room  and  stood  there  hesitatingly  for 
an  instant. 

.134 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Then  quite  abruptly  she  crossed  to  her  bu 
reau  and  pushing  aside  the  old  ivory  toilet 
articles,  began  to  jerk  her  tously  hair  first 
one  way  and  then  another  across  her  wor 
ried  forehead. 

"  But  if  you  knew  you  were  a  rose?  "  she 
mused  perplexedly  to  herself.  "  That  is  — 
if  you  felt  almost  sure  that  you  were,"  she 
added  with  sudden  humility.  "  That  is  — " 
she  corrected  herself  — "  that  is  —  if  you 
felt  almost  sure  that  you  could  be  a  rose  — 
if  anybody  wanted  you  to  be  one  ?  " 

In  impulsive  experimentation  she  gave  an 
other  tweak  to  her  hair,  and  pinched  a  poor 
bruised-looking  little  blush  into  the  hollow 
of  one  thin  little  cheek.  "  But  suppose  it 
was  the  —  the  people  —  going  by,"  she  fal 
tered,  "  who  never  even  dreamed  that  you 
were  a  rose  ?  Suppose  it  was  the  —  Sup 
pose  it  was  —  Suppose  — " 

Dejection  unspeakable  settled  suddenly 
upon  her  —  an  agonizing  sense  of  youth's 
futility.  Rackingly  above  the  crash  and  lilt 
of  music,  the  quick,  wild  thud  of  dancing 
feet,  the  sharp,  staccato  notes  of  laughter  — 

135 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

she  heard  the  dull,  heavy,  unrhythmical  tread 
of  the  oncoming  years  —  gray  years,  limp 
ing  eternally  from  to-morrow  on,  through 
unloved  lands,  on  unloved  errands. 

"  This  is  the  end  of  youth.  It  is  —  it  is 
—  it  is,"  whimpered  her  heart. 

"  It  is  N'T  !  "  something  suddenly  poign 
ant  and  determinate  shrilled  startlingly  in 
her  brain.  "  I  '11  have  one  more  peep  at 
youth,  anyway !  "  threatened  the  brain. 

"  If  we  only  could!  "  yearned  the  discour 
aged  heart. 

Speculatively  for  one  brief  instant  the  girl 
stood  cocking  her  head  toward  the  door  of 
her  father's  room.  Then,  expeditiously,  if 
not  fashionably,  she  began  at  once  to  rear 
range  her  tousled  hair,  and  after  one  single 
pat  to  her  gown  —  surely  the  quickest  toilet- 
making  of  that  festive  evening  —  snatched 
up  a  slipper  in  each  hand,  crept  safely  past 
her  father's  door,  crept  safely  out  at  last 
through  her  own  door  into  the  hall,  and 
still  carrying  a  slipper  in  each  hand,  had 
reached  the  head  of  the  stairs  before  a  new 
complexity  assailed  her. 
136 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Why  —  why,  I  've  never  yet  —  been 
anywhere  —  alone  —  without  my  mother's 
memory !  "  she  faltered,  aghast. 

Thenx  impetuously,  with  a  little  frown  of 
material  inconvenience,  but  no  flicker  what 
soever  in  the  fixed  spiritual  habit  of  her  life, 
she  dropped  her  slippers  on  the  floor,  sped 
back  to  her  room,  hesitated  on  the  threshold 
a  moment  with  real  perplexity,  darted  softly 
to  her  trunk,  rummaged  as  noiselessly 
through  it  as  a  kitten's  paws,  discovered  at 
last  the  special  object  of  her  quest  —  a  filmy 
square  of  old  linen  and  lace  —  thrust  it  into 
her  belt  with  her  own  handkerchief,  and 
went  creeping  back  again  to  her  slippers  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs. 

As  if  to  add  fresh  nervousness  to  the  situ 
ation,  one  of  the  slippers  lay  pointing  quite 
boldly  down-stairs.  But  the  other  slipper  • — 
true  as  a  compass  to  the  north  —  toed 
with  unmistakable  severity  toward  the  bed 
room. 

Tentatively  little  Eve  Edgarton  inserted 
one  foot  in  the  timid  slipper.  The  path  back 
to  her  room  was  certainly  the  simplest  path 
137 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

that  she  knew  —  and  the  dullest.  Equally 
tentatively  she  withdrew  from  the  timid  slip 
per  and  tried  the  adventurous  one. 
"  O-u-c-h ! "  she  cried  out  loud.  The  sole 
of  the  second  slipper  seemed  fairly  sizzling 
with  excitement. 

With  a  slight  gasp  of  impatience,  then, 
she  reached  out  and  pulled  the  timid  slipper 
back  into  line,  stepped  firmly  into  it,  pointed 
both  slipper-toes  unswervingly  southward, 
and  proceeded  on  down-stairs  to  investigate 
the  "  Christian  Dance." 

At  the  first  turn  of  the  lower  landing  she 
stopped  short,  with  every  ennui-darkened 
sense  in  her  body  "  jacked  "  like  a  wild  deer's 
senses  before  the  sudden  dazzle  of  sight, 
sound,  scent  that  awaited  her  below.  Be 
fore  her  blinking  eyes  she  saw  even  the 
empty,  humdrum  hotel  office  turned  into  a 
blazing  bower  of  palms  and  roses  and  electric 
lights.  Beyond  this  bower  a  corridor  opened 
out  —  more  dense,  more  sweet,  more  spar 
kling.  And  across  this  corridor  the  echo  of 
the  unseen  ball  came  diffusing  through  the 
palms  —  the  plaintive  cry  of  a  violin,  the 
138  ' 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

rippling  laugh  of  a  piano,  the  swarming  hum 
of  human  voices',  the  swish  of  skirts,  the 
agitant  thud-thud-thud  of  dancing  feet,  the 
throb,  almost,  of  young  hearts  —  a  thousand 
commonplace,  every-day  sounds  merged  here 
and  now  into  one  magic  harmony  that 
thrilled  little  Eve  Edgarton  as  nothing  on 
God's  big  earth  had  ever  thrilled  her  before. 

Hurriedly  she  darted  down  the  last  flight 
of  steps  and  sped  across  the  bright  office  to 
the  dark  veranda,  consumed  by  one  fuming, 
passionate,  utterly  uncontrollable  curiosity 
to  see  with  her  own  eyes  just  what  all  that 
wonderful  sound  looked  like! 

Once  outside  in  the  darkness  her  confu 
sion  cleared  a  little.  It  was  late,  she  rea 
soned  —  very,  very  late,  long  after  midnight 
probably;  for  of  all  the  shadowy,  flickering 
line  of  evening  smokers  that  usually  crowded 
that  particular  stretch  of  veranda  only  a  sin 
gle  distant  glow  or  two  remained.  Yet 
even  now  in  the  almost  complete  isolation 
of  her  surroundings  the  old  inherent  bash- 
fulness  swept  over  her  again  and  warred 
chaotically  with  her  insistent  purpose.  As 
139 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

stealthily  as  possible  she  crept  along  the  dark 
wall  to  the  one  bright  spot  that  flared  forth 
like  a  lantern  lens  from  the  gay  ballroom  — 
crept  along  —  crept  along  —  a  plain  little 
girl  in  a  plain  little  dress,  yearning  like  all 
the  other  plain  little  girls  of  the  world,  in  all 
the  other  plain  little  dresses  of  the  world,  to 
press  her  wistful  little  nose  just  once  against 
some  dazzling  toy-shop  window. 

With  her  fingers  groping  at  last  into  the 
actual  shutters  of  that  coveted  ballroom  win 
dow,  she  scrunched  her  eyes  up  perfectly 
tight  for  an  instant  and  then  opened  them, 
staring  wide  at  the  entrancing  scene  before 
her. 

"O  — h!"  said  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
«O  —  h!" 

The  scene  was  certainly  the  scene  of  a 
most  madcap  summer  carnival.  Palms  of 
the  far  December  desert  were  there!  And 
roses  from  the  near,  familiar  August  gar 
dens!  The  swirl  of  chiffon  and  lace  and 
silk  was  like  a  rainbow-tinted  breeze !  The 
music  crashed  on  the  senses  like  blows  that 
wasted  no  breath  in  subtler  argument! 
140 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Naked  shoulders  gleamed  at  every  turn  be 
neath  their  diamonds !  Silk  stockings  bared 
their  sheen  at  each  new  rompish  step !  And 
through-  the  dizzy  mystery  of  it  all  —  the 
haze,  the  maze,  the  vague,  audacious  unreal 
ity, —  grimly  conventional,  blatantly  tangible 
white  shirt-fronts  surrounded  by  great  black 
blots  of  men  went  slapping  by  —  each  with 
its  share  of  fairyland  in  its  arms! 

"  Why !  They  're  not  dancing !  "  gasped 
little  Eve  Edgarton.  "  They  're  just  pran 
cing!" 

Even  so,  her  own  feet  began  to  prance. 
And  very  faintly  across  her  cheek-bones  a 
little  flicker  of  pink  began  to  glow. 

Then  very  startlingly  behind  her  a  man's 
shadow  darkened  suddenly,  and,  sensing  in 
stantly  that  this  newcomer  also  was  inter 
ested  in  the  view  through  the  window,  she 
drew  aside 'courteously  to  give  him  his  share 
of  the  pleasure.  In  her  briefest  glance  she 
saw  that  he  was  no  one  whom  she  knew, 
but  in  the  throbbing  witchery  of  the  moment 
he  seemed  to  her  suddenly  like  her  only 
friend  in  the  world. 

141 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"It's  pretty,  isn't  it?"  she  nodded  to 
ward  the  ballroom. 

Casually  the  man  bent  down  to  look  until 
his  smoke-scented  cheek  almost  grazed  hers. 
"  It  certainly  is !  "  he  conceded  amiably. 

Without  further  speech  for  a  moment 
they  both  stood  there  peering  into  the  won 
derful  picture.  Then  altogether  abruptly, 
and  with  no  excuse  whatsoever,  little  Eve 
Edgarton's  heart  gave  a  great,  big  lurch, 
and,  wringing  her  small  brown  hands  to 
gether  so  that  by  no  grave  mischance  should 
she  reach  out  and  touch  the  stranger's  sleeve 
as  she  peered  up  at  him,  "I  —  can  dance/' 
drawled  little  Eve  Edgarton. 

Shrewdly  the  man's  glance  flashed  down 
at  her.  Quite  plainly  he  recognized  her 
now.  She  was  that  "  funny  little  Edgar- 
ton  girl."  That's  exactly  who  she  was! 
In  the  simple,  old-fashioned  arrangement 
of  her  hair,  in  the  personal  neatness 
but  total  indifference  to  fashion  of 
her  prim,  high-throated  gown,  she  repre 
sented  —  frankly  —  everything  that  he 
thought  he  most  approved  in  woman.  But 
142 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

nothing  under  the  starry  heavens  at  that  mo 
ment  could  have  forced  him  to  lead  her  as 
a  partner  into  that  dazzling  maelstrom  of 
Mode  and  Modernity,  because  she  looked 
"  so  horridly  eccentric  and  conspicuous  " — 
compared  to  the  girls  that  he  thought  he 
did  n't  approve  of  at  all ! 

"  Why,  of  course  you  can  dance !  I  only 
wish  I  could !  "  he  lied  gallantly.  And  stole 
away  as  soon  as  he  reasonably  could  to  find 
another  partner,  trusting  devoutly  that  the 
darkness  had  not  divulged  his  actual  fea 
tures. 

Five  minutes  later,  through  the  window- 
frame  of  her  magic  picture,  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton  saw  him  pass,  swinging  his  share  of 
fairyland  in  his  arms. 

And  close  behind  him  followed  Barton, 
swinging  his  share  of  fairyland  in  his  arms ! 
Barton  the  wonderful  —  at  his  best!  Bar 
ton  the  wonderful  —  with  his  best,  the 
blonde,  blonde  girl  of  the  marvelous  gowns 
and  hats.  There  was  absolutely  no  doubt 
whatsoever  about  them.  They  were  the 
handsomest  couple  in  the  room ! 
143 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Furtively  from  her  hidden  corner  little 
Eve  Edgarton  stood  and  watched  them.  To 
her  appraising  eyes  there  were  at  least  two 
other  girls  almost  as  beautiful  as  Barton's 
partner.  But  no  other  man  in  the  room 
compared  with  Barton.  Of  that  she  was 
perfectly  sure !  His  brow,  his  eyes,  his  chin, 
the  way  he  held  his  head  upon  his  wonder 
ful  shoulders,  the  way  he  stood  upon  his 
feet,  his  smile,  his  laugh,  the  very  gesture 
of  his  hands! 

Over  and  over  again  as  she  watched,  these 
two  perfect  partners  came  circling  through 
her  vision,  solemnly  graceful  or  rhythmically 
hoydenish  —  two  fortune-favored  young 
sters  born  into  exactly  the  same  sphere, 
trained  to  do  exactly  the  same  things  in  ex 
actly  the  same  way,  so  that  even  now,  with 
twelve  years'  difference  in  age  between  them, 
every  conscious  vibration  of  their  beings 
seemed  to  be  tuned  instinctively  to  the  same 
key. 

Bluntly  little  Eve  Edgarton  looked  back 
upon  the  odd,  haphazard  training  of  her 
own  life.  Was  there  any  one  in  this  world 
144 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

whose  training  had  been  exactly  like  hers? 
Then  suddenly  her  elbow  went  crooking  up 
across  her  eyes  to  remember  how  Barton 
had  looked  in  the  stormy  woods  that  night 
—  lying  half  naked  —  and  almost  wholly 
dead  —  at  her  feet.  Except  for  her  odd, 
haphazard  training,  he  would  have  been 
dead!  Barton,  the  beautiful  —  dead? 
And  worse  than  dead  —  buried?  And 
worse  than  — 

Out  of  her  lips  a  little  gasp  of  sound  rang 
agonizingly. 

And  in  that  instant,  by  some  trick-fashion 
of  the  dance,  the  rollicking  music  stopped 
right  off  short  in  the  middle  of  a  note,  the 
lights  went  out,  the  dancers  fled  precipi 
tously  to  their  seats,  and  out  of  the  arbored 
gallery  of  the  orchestra  a  single  swarthy- 
faced  male  singer  stepped  forth  into  the  wan 
wake  of  an  artificial  moon,  and  lifted  up  a 
marvelous  tenor  voice  in  one  of  those  weird 
folk-songs  of  the  far-away  that  fairly  tear 
the  listener's  heart  out  of  his  body  —  a  song 
as  sinisterly  metallic  as  the  hum  of  hate 
along  a  dagger-blade ;  a  song  as  rapturously 
145 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

surprised  at  its  own  divinity  as  the  first  trill 
of  a  nightingale;  a  song  of  purling  brooks 
and  grim,  gray  mountain  fortresses;  a  song 
of  quick,  sharp  lights  and  long,  low,  lazy 
cadences;  a  song  of  love  and  hate;  a  sonj 
of  all  joys  and  all  sorrows  —  and  then  death ; 
the  song  of  Sex  as  Nature  sings  it  —  the 
plaintive,  wheedling,  passionate  song  of  Sex 
as  Nature  sings  it  yet  —  in  the  far-away 
places  of  the  earth. 

To  no  one  else  in  that  company  probably 
did  a  single  word  penetrate.  Merely 
stricken  dumb  by  the  vibrant  power  of  the 
voice,  vaguely  uneasy,  vaguely  saddened, 
group  after  group  of  hoydenish  youngsters 
huddled  in  speechless  fascination  around  the 
dark  edges  of  the  hall. 

But  to  little  Eve  Edgarton's  cosmopolitan 
ears  each  familiar  gipsyish  word  thus 
strangely  transplanted  into  that  alien  room 
was  like  a  call  to  the  wild  —  from  the  wild. 

So  —  as  to  all  repressed  natures  the  mo 
ment  of  full  self-expression  comes  once, 
without  warning,  without  preparation,  with 
out  even  conscious  acquiescence  sometimes 
146 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

—  the  moment  came  to  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
Impishly  first,  more  as  a  dare  to  herself  than 
as  anything  else,  she  began  to  hum  the  mel 
ody  and  sway  her  body  softly  to  and  fro  to 
the  rhythm. 

Then  suddenly  her  breath  began  to 
quicken,  and  as  one  half  hypnotized  she 
went  clambering  through  the  window  into 
the  ballroom,  stood  for  an  instant  like  a 
gray-white  phantom  in  the  outer  shadows, 
then,  with  a  laugh  as  foreign  to  her  own 
ears  as  to  another's,  snatched  up  a  great, 
square,  shimmering  silver  scarf  that  gleamed 
across  a  deserted  chair,  stretched  it  taut  by 
its  corners  across  her  hair  and  eyes,  and 
with  a  queer  little  cry  —  half  defiance,  half 
appeal  —  a  quick  dart,  a  long,  undulating 
glide  —  merged  herself  into  the  dagger- 
blade,  the  nightingale,  the  grim  mountain 
fortress,  the  gay  mocking  brook,  all  the  love, 
all  the  rapture,  all  the  ghastly  fatalism  of  that 
heartbreaking  song. 

Bent  as  a  bow  her  lithe  figure  curved  now 
right,  now  left,  to  the  lilting  cadence.  Sup 
ple  as  a  silken  tube  her  slender  body  seemed 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

to  drink  up  the  fluid  sound.  No  one  could 
have  sworn  in  that  vague  light  that  her  feet 
even  so  much  as  touched  the  ground.  She 
was  a  wraith!  A  phantasy!  A  fluctuant 
miracle  of  sound  and  sense! 

Tremulously  the  singer's  voice  faltered  in 
his  throat  to  watch  his  song  come  gray- 
ghost-true  before  his  staring  eyes.  With 
scant  restraint  the  crowd  along  the  walls 
pressed  forward,  half  pleasure-mad,  to  solve 
the  mystery  of  the  apparition.  Abruptly  the 
song  stopped!  The  dancer  faltered! 
Lights  blazed!  A  veritable  shriek  of  ap 
plause  went  roaring  to  the  roof-tops ! 

And  little  Eve  Edgarton  in  one  wild  panic- 
stricken  surge  of  terror  went  tearing  off 
through  a  blind  alley  of  palms,  dodging  a 
cafe  table,  jumping  an  improvised  trellis  — 
a  hundred  pursuing  voices  yelling: 
"  Where  is  she  ?  Where  is  she  ?  " —  the 
telltale  tinsel  scarf  flapping  frenziedly  behind 
her,  flapping  —  flapping  —  till  at  last,  be 
tween  one  high,  garnished  shelf  and  another 
it  twined  its  vampirish  chiffon  around  the 
delicate  fronds  of  a  huge  potted  fern! 
148 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

There  was  a  jerk, —  a  blur, —  a  blow,  the 
sickening  crash  of  fallen  pottery  —  And 
little  Eve  Edgarton  crumpled  up  on  the  floor, 
no  longer  "  colorless  "  among  the  pale,  dry, 
rainbow  tints  and  shrill  metallic  glints  of 
that  most  wondrous  scene. 

Under  her  crimson  mask,  when  the  res 
cuers  finally  reached  her,  she  lay  as  perfectly 
disguised  as  even  her  most  bashful  mood 
could  have  wished. 

All  around  her  —  kneeling,  crowding, 
meddling,  interfering — frightened  people 
queried :  "  Who  is  she  ?  Who  is  she  ?  " 
Now  and  again  from  out  of  the  medley  some 
one  offered  a  half-articulate  suggestion.  It 
was  the  hotel  proprietor  who  moved  first. 
Clumsily  but  kindly,  with  a  fat  hand  thrust 
under  her  shoulders,  he  tried  to  raise  her 
head  from  the  floor.  Barton  himself,  as  the 
most  recently  returned  from  the  "  Dark  Val 
ley,"  moved  next.  Futilely,  with  a  tiny 
wisp  of  linen  and  lace  that  he  found  at  the 
girl's  belt,  he  tried  to  wipe  the  blood  from 
her  lips. 

"  Who  is  she  ?  Who  is  she  ?  "  the  con- 
149 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

glomerate  hum  of  inquiry  rose  and  fell  like 
a  moan. 

Beneath  the  crimson  stain  on  the  little 
lace  handkerchief  a  trace  of  indelible  ink 
showed  faintly.  Scowlingly  Barton  bent  to 
decipher  it.  "  Mother's  Little  Handker 
chief,"  the  marking  read.  "  '  Mother's?  '  " 
Barton  repeated  blankly.  Then  suddenly 
full  comprehension  broke  upon  him,  and, 
horridly  startled  and  shocked  with  a  brand- 
new  realization  of  the  tragedy,  he  fairly 
blurted  out  his  astonishing  information. 

"  Why  —  why,  it 's  the  —  little  Edgarton 
girl ! "  he  hurled  like  a  bombshell  into  the 
surrounding  company. 

Instantly,  with  the  mystery  once  removed, 
a  dozen  hysterical  people  seemed  startled 
into  normal  activity.  No  one  knew  exactly 
what  to  do,  but  some  ran  for  water  and  tow 
els,  and  some  ran  for  the  doctor,  and  one 
young  woman  with  astonishing  acumen 
slipped  out  of  her  white  silk  petticoat  and 
bound  it,  blue  ribbons  and  all,  as  best  she 
could,  around  Eve  Edgarton's  poor  little 
gashed  head. 

150 


^< 


Suddenly  full  comprehension  broke  upon  him  and  he  fairly  blurted 
out  his  astonishing  information 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  We  must  carry  her  up-stairs !  "  asserted 
the  hotel  proprietor. 

"  I  '11  carry  her !  "  said  Barton  quite  def 
initely. 

Fantastically  the  procession  started  up 
ward  —  little  Eve  Edgarton  white  as  a  ghost 
now  in  Barton's  arms,  except  for  that  one 
persistent  trickle  of  red  from  under  the  loos 
ening  edge  of  her  huge  Oriental-like  turban 
of  ribbon  and  petticoat ;  the  hotel  proprietor 
still  worrying  eternally  how  to  explain  every 
thing;  two  or  three  well-intentioned  women 
babbling  inconsequently  of  other  broken 
heads. 

In  astonishingly  slow  response  to  as  vio 
lent  a  knock  as  they  thought  they  gave,  Eve 
Edgarton's  father  came  shuffling  at  last  to 
the  door  to  greet  them.  Like  one  half  par 
alyzed  with  sleep  and  perplexity,  he  stood 
staring  blankly  at  them  as  they  filed  into  his 
rooms  with  their  burden. 

"  Your  daughter  seems  to  have  bumped 
her  head !  "  the  hotel  proprietor  began  with 
professional  tact. 

In  one  gasping  breath  the  women  started 

153 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

to   explain   their  version   of   the   accident. 

Barton,  as  dumb  as  the  father,  carried 
the  girl  directly  to  the  bed  and  put  her  down 
softly,  half  lying,  half  sitting,  among  the 
great  pile  of  night-crumpled  pillows.  Some 
one  threw  a  blanket  over  her.  And  above 
the  top  edge  of  that  blanket  nothing  of  her 
showed  except  the  grotesquely  twisted  tur 
ban,  the  whole  of  one  white  eyelid,  the  half 
of  the  other,  and  just  that  single  persistent 
trickle  of  red.  Raspishly  at  that  moment  the 
clock  on  the  mantelpiece  choked  out  the  hour 
of  three.  Already  Dawn  was  more  than  half 
a  hint  in  the  sky,  and  in  the  ghastly  mixture 
of  real  and  artificial  light  the  girl's  doom 
looked  already  sealed. 

Then  very  suddenly  she  opened  her  eyes 
and  stared  around. 

"  Eve !  "  gasped  her  father,  "  what  have 
you  been  doing?  " 

Vaguely  the  troubled  eyes  closed,  and  then 
opened  again.  "  I  was  —  trying  —  to  show 
people  —  that  I  was  a  —  rose,"  mumbled  lit 
tle  Eve  Edgarton. 

Swiftly  her  father  came  running  to  her 
154 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

side.  He  thought  it  was  her  deathbed  state 
ment.  "But  Eve?"  he  pleaded.  "Why, 
my  own  little  girl.  Why,  my — " 

Laboriously  the  big  eyes  lifted  to  his. 
"  Mother  was  a  rose,"  persisted  the  stricken 
lips  desperately. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  sobbed  her  father.     "  But 

—  but—" 

"  But  —  nothing,"  mumbled  little  Eve 
Edgarton.  With  an  almost  superhuman  ef 
fort  she  pushed  her  sharp  little  chin  across 
the  confining  edge  of  the  blanket.  Vaguely, 
unrecognizingly  then,  for  the  first  time,  her 
heavy  eyes  sensed  the  hotel  proprietor's 
presence  and  worried  their  way  across  the 
tearful  ladies  to  Barton's  harrowed  face. 

"  Mother  —  was  a  rose,"  she  began  all 
over  again.  "  Mother  —  was  a  rose. 
Mother  —  was  —  a  rose,"  she  persisted  bab- 
blingly.  "  And  Father  —  g-guessed  it  — 
from  the  very  first!  But  as  for  me  —  ?" 
Weakly  she  began  to  claw  at  her  incongru 
ous  bandage.  "  But  —  as  —  for  me,"  she 
gasped,  "  the  way  I  'm  fixed !  —  I  have  to 

—  announce  it !  " 

155 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  Edgartons  did  not  start  for  Mel 
bourne  the  following  day!  Nor  the 
next  —  nor  the  next  —  nor  even  the  next. 

In  a  head-bandage  much  more  scientific 
than  a  blue-ribboned  petticoat,  but  infinitely 
less  decorative,  little  Eve  Edgarton  lay  im 
prisoned  among  her  hotel  pillows. 

Twice  a  day,  and  oftener  if  he  could  jus 
tify  it,  the  village  doctor  came  to  investigate 
pulse  and  temperature.  Never  before  in  all 
his  humdrum  winter  experience,  or  occa 
sional  summer-tourist  vagary,  had  he  ever 
met  any  people  who  prated  of  camels  in 
stead  of  motor-cars,  or  deprecated  the  dust 
of  Abyssinia  on  their  Piccadilly  shoes,  or 
sighed  indiscriminately  for  the  snow-tinted 
breezes  of  the  Klondike  and  Ceylon. 
Never,  either,  in  all  his  full  round  of  ex 
perience  had  the  village  doctor  had  a  surgi 
cal  patient  as  serenely  complacent  as  little 
156 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Eve  Edgarton,  or  any  anxious  relative  as 
madly  restive  as  little  Eve  Edgarton's 
father. 

For  the  first  twenty-four  hours,  of  course, 
Mr.  Edgarton  was  much  too  worried  over 
the  accident  to  his  daughter  to  think  for  a 
moment  of  the  accident  to  his  railway  and 
steamship  tickets.  For  the  second  twenty- 
four  hours  he  was  very  naturally  so  much 
concerned  with  the  readjustment  of  his  rail 
way  and  steamship  tickets  that  he  never  con 
cerned  himself  at  all  with  the  accident  to 
his  plans.  But  by  the  end  of  the  third 
twenty-four  hours,  with  his  first  two  wor 
ries  reasonably  eliminated,  it  was  the  acci 
dent  to  his  plans  that  smote  upon  him  with 
the  fiercest  poignancy.  Let  a  man's  clothes 
and  togs  vacillate  as  they  will  between  his 
trunk  and  his  bureau  —  once  that  man's 
spirit  is  packed  for  a  journey  nothing  but 
journey's  end  can  ever  unpack  it  again ! 

With  his  own  heart  tuned  already  to  the 
heart-throb  of  an  engine,  his  pale  eyes  fo 
cused  squintingly  toward  expected  novelties, 
his  thin  nostrils  half  a-sniff  with  the  first 
157 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

salty  scent  of  the  Far- Away,  Mr.  Edgarton, 
whatever  his  intentions,  was  not  the  most 
ideal  of  sick-room  companions.  Too  con 
scientious  to  leave  his  daughter,  too  unhappy 
to  stay  with  her,  he  spent  the  larger  part  of 
his  days  and  nights  pacing  up  and  down 
like  a  caged  beast  between  the  two  bed 
rooms. 

It  was  not  till  the  fifth  day,  however,  that 
his  impatience  actually  burst  the  bounds  he 
had  set  for  it.  Somewhere  between  his 
maple  bureau  and  Eve's  mahogany  bed  the 
actual  explosion  took  place,  and  in  that  ex 
plosion  every  single  infinitesimal  wrinkle  of 
brow,  cheek,  chin,  nose,  was  called  into  play, 
as  if  here  at  last  was  a  man  who  intended 
once  and  for  all  time  to  wring  his  face  per 
fectly  dry  of  all  human  expression. 

"  Eve!  "  hissed  her  father.  "  I  hate  this 
place !  I  loathe  this  place !  I  abominate  it ! 
I  despise  it!  The  flora  is  —  execrable! 
The  fauna  ?  Nil !  And  as  to  the  coffee  — 
the  breakfast  coffee?  Oh,  ye  gods!  Eve, 
if  we're  delayed  here  another  week  —  I 
shall  die!  Die,  mind  you,  at  sixty-two! 
158 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

With  my  life-work  just  begun,  Eve !  I  hate 
this  place !  I  abominate  it !  I  de  — " 

"  Really  ?  "  mused  little  Eve  Edgarton 
from  her  white  pillows.  "  Why  —  I  think 
it 's  lovely." 

"Eh?"  demanded  her  father.  "What? 
Eh?" 

"  It 's  so  social,"  said  little  Eve  Edgar- 
ton. 

"  Social  ?  "  choked  her  father. 

As  bereft  of  expression  as  if  robbed  of 
both  inner  and  outer  vision,  little  Eve  Ed 
garton  lifted  her  eyes  to  his.  "Why  — 
two  of  the  hotel  ladies  have  almost  been  to 
see  me,"  she  confided  listlessly.  "  And  the 
chambermaid  brought  me  the  picture  of  her 
beau.  And  the  hotel  proprietor  lent  me  a 
story-book.  And  Mr. — " 

"  Social  ?  "  snapped  her  father. 

"  Oh,  of  course  —  if  you  got  killed  in  a 
fire  or  anything,  saving  people's  lives,  you  'd 
sort  of  expect  them  to  —  send  you  candy 
—  or  make  you  some  sort  of  a  memorial," 
conceded  little  Eve  Edgarton  unemotionally. 
"But  when  you  break  your  head  —  just 
159 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

amusing  yourself?  Why,  I  thought  it  was 
nice  for  the  hotel  ladies  to  almost  come  to 
see  me,"  she  finished,  without  even  so  much 
as  a  flicker  of  the  eyelids. 

Disgustedly  her  father  started  for  his  own 
room,  then  whirled  abruptly  in  his  tracks 
and  glanced  back  at  that  imperturbable  lit 
tle  figure  in  the  big  white  bed.  Except  for 
the  scarcely  perceptible  hound-like  flicker  of 
his  nostrils,  his  own  face  held  not  a  whit 
more  expression  than  the  girl's. 

"  Eve,"  he  asked  casually,"  Eve,  you  're 
not  changing  your  mind,  are  you,  about 
Nunko-Nono?  And  John  Ellbertson? 
Good  old  John  Ellbertson,"  he  repeated  feel 
ingly.  "  Eve ! "  he  quickened  with  sudden 
sharpness.  "  Surely  nothing  has  happened 
to  make  you  change  your  mind  about  Nunko- 
Nono  ?  And  good  old  John  Ellbertson  ?  " 

"  Oh  —  no  —  Father,"  said  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton.  Indolently  she  withdrew  her  eyes 
from  her  father's  and  stared  off  Nunko- 
Nonoward  —  in  a  hazy,  geographical  sort 
of  a  dream.  "  Good  old  John  Ellbertson 
—  good  old  John  Ellbertson,"  she  began  to 
160 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

croon  very  softly  to  herself.  "  Good  old 
John  Ellbertson.  How  I  do  love  his  kind 
brown  eyes  —  how  I  do  — " 

"  Brown  eyes  ? "  snapped  her  father. 
"  Brown?  John  Ellbertson 's  got  the  gray 
est  eyes  that  I  ever  saw  in  my  life !  " 

Without  the  slightest  ruffle  of  composure 
little  Eve  Edgarton  accepted  the  correction. 
"  Oh,  has  he  ? "  she  conceded  amiably. 
"  Well,  then,  good  old  John  Ellbertson  — 
good  old  John  Elbertson  —  how  I  do  love 
his  kind  —  gray  eyes,"  she  began  all  over 
again. 

Palpably  Edgarton  shifted  his  standing 
weight  from  one  foot  to  the  other.  "  I 
understood — -your  mother,"  he  asserted  a 
bit  defiantly. 

"  Did  you,  dear?  I  wonder?  "  mused  lit 
tle  Eve  Edgarton. 

"Eh?"  jerked  her  father. 

Still  with  the  vague  geographical  dream 
in  her  eyes,  little  Eve  Edgarton  pointed  off 
suddenly  toward  the  open  lid  of  her  steamer 
trunk. 

"  Oh  —  my  manuscript  notes,  Father, 
161 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

please ! "  she  ordered  almost  peremptorily, 
"John's  notes,  you  know?  I  might  as  well 
be  working  on  them  while  I  'm  lying  here." 

Obediently  from  the  tousled  top  of  the 
steamer  trunk  her  father  returned  with  the 
great  batch  of  rough  manuscript.  "  And 
my  pencil,  please,"  persisted  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton.  "  And  my  eraser.  And  my  writ 
ing-board.  And  my  ruler.  And  my  — " 

Absent-mindedly,  one  by  one,  Edgarton 
handed  the  articles  to  her,  and  then  sank 
down  on  the  foot  of  her  bed  with  his  thin- 
lipped  mouth  contorted  into  a  rather  mirth 
less  grin.  "  Don't  care  much  for  your  old 
father,  do  you?"  he  asked  trenchantly. 

Gravely  for  a  moment  the  girl  sat  study 
ing  her  father's  weather-beaten  features,  the 
thin  hair,  the  pale,  shrewd  eyes,  the  gaunt 
cheeks,  the  indomitable  old-young  mouth. 
Then  a  little  shy  smile  flickered  across  her 
face  and  was  gone  again. 

"  As  a  parent,  dear,"  she  drawled,  "  I  love 
you  to  distraction!  But  as  a  daily  compan 
ion?"  Vaguely  her  eyebrows  lifted.  "  As 
a  real  playmate  ? "  Against  the  starch- 
162 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

white  of  her  pillows  the  sudden  flutter  of 
her  small  brown  throat  showed  with  almost 
startling  distinctness.  "  But  as  a  real  play 
mate,"  she  persisted  evenly,  "  you  are  so  — 
intelligent  —  and  you  travel  so  fast  —  it 
tires  me." 

"Whom  do  you  like?"  asked  her  father 
sharply. 

The  girl's  eyes  were  suddenly  sullen  again 
—  bored,  distrait,  inestimably  dreary. 
"  That 's  ibe  whole  trouble,"  she  said. 
"  You  've  never  given  me  time  —  to  like  any 
body." 

"Oh,  but  —  Eve,"  pleaded  her  father. 
Awkward  as  any  school-boy,  he  sat  there, 
fuming  and  twisting  before  this  absurd  little 
bunch  of  nerve  and  nerves  that  he  himself 
had  begotten.  "  Oh,  but  Eve,"  he  depre 
cated  helplessly,  "  it 's  the  deuce  of  a  job  for 
a  —  for  a  man  to  be  left  all  alone  in  the 
world  with  a  —  with  a  daughter !  Really 
it  is!" 

Already  the  sweat  had  started  on  his  fore 
head,  and  across  one  cheek  the  old  gray  fret 
work  of  wrinkles  began  to  shadow  suddenly. 
163 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"I've  done  my  best!"  he  pleaded.  "I 
swear  I  have !  Only  I  've  never  known 
how !  With  a  mother,  now,"  he  stammered, 
"  with  a  wife,  with  a  sister,  with  your  best 
friend's  sister,  you  know  just  what  to  do! 
It 's  a  definite  relation !  Prescribed  by  a 
definite  emotion !  But  a  daughter?  Oh,  ye 
gods!  Your  whole  sexual  angle  of  vision 
changed !  A  creature  neither  fish,  flesh,  nor 
fowl !  Non-superior,  non-contemporaneous, 
non-subservient!  Just  a  lady!  A  strange 
lady !  Yes,  that 's  exactly  it,  Eve  —  a 
strange  lady  —  growing  eternally  just  a  lit 
tle  bit  more  strange  —  just  a  little  bit  more 
remote  —  every  minute  of  her  life!  Yet 
it 's  so  —  damned  intimate  all  the  time !  " 
he  blurted  out  passionately.  "  All  the  time 
she  's  rowing  you  about  your  manners  and 
your  morals,  all  the  time  she  's  laying  down 
the  law  to  you  about  the  tariff  or  the  turnips, 
you  're  remembering  —  how  you  used  to  — 
scrub  her  —  in  her  first  little  blue-lined  tin 
bath-tub!" 

Once  again  the  flickering  smile  flared  up 
in  little  Eve  Edgarton's  eyes  and  was  gone 
164 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

again.  A  trifle  self-consciously  she  bur 
rowed  back  into  her  pillows.  When  she 
spoke  her  voice  was  scarcely  audible.  "  Oh, 
I  know  I  'm  funny,"  she  admitted  conscien 
tiously. 

"  You  're  not  funny !  "  snapped  her  father. 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  whispered  the  girl. 

"  No,  you  're  not !  "  reasserted  her  father 
with  increasing  vehemence.  "  You  're  not ! 
It 's  I  who  am  funny !  It 's  I  who  — "  In 
a  chaos  of  emotion  he  slid  along  the  edge 
of  the  bed  and  clasped  her  in  his  arms. 
Just  for  an  instant  his  wet  cheek  grazed 
hers,  then :  "  All  the  same,  you  know," 
he  insisted  awkwardly,  "  I  hate  this 
place!" 

Surprisingly  little  Eve  Edgarton  reached 
up  and  kissed  him  full  on  the  mouth.  They 
were  both  very  much  embarrassed. 

"  Why  —  why,  Eve !  "  stammered  her 
father.  "Why,  my  little  —  little  girl! 
Why,  you  haven't  kissed  me  —  before  — 
since  you  were  a  baby !  " 

"  Yes,  I  have !  "  nodded  little  Eve  Edgar- 
ton. 

165 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  No,  you  have  n't !  "  snapped  her  father. 

"  Yes,  I  have !  "  insisted  Eve. 

Tighter  and  tighter  their  arms  clasped 
round  each  other.  "  You  're  all  I  Ve  got," 
faltered  the  man  brokenly. 

"  You  're  all  I  Ve  ever  had,"  whispered 
little  Eve  Edgarton. 

Silently  for  a  moment  each  according  to 
his  thoughts  sat  staring  off  into  far  places. 
Then  without  any  warning  whatsoever,  the 
man  reached  out  suddenly  and  tipped  his 
daughter's  face  up  abruptly  into  the  light. 

"  Eve !  "  he  demanded.  "  Surely  you  're 
not  blaming  me  any  in  your  heart  because 
I  want  to  see  you  safely  married  and  settled 
with  —  with  John  Ellbertson  ?  " 

Vaguely,  like  a  child  repeating  a  dimly 
understood  lesson,  little  Eve  Edgarton  re 
peated  the  phrases  after  him.  "  Oh,  no, 
Father,"  she  said,  "I  surely  am  not  blaming 
you  —  in  my  heart  —  for  wanting  to  see  me 
married  and  settled  with  —  John  Ellbertson. 
Good  old  John  Ellbertson,"  she  corrected 
painstakingly. 

With  his  hand  still  holding  her  little  chin 
166 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

like  a  vise,  the  man's  eyes  narrowed  to  his 
further  probing.  "  Eve,"  he  frowned, 
"  I  'm  not  as  well  as  I  used  to  be !  I  've  got 
pains  in  my  arms !  And  they  're  not  good 
pains !  I  shall  live  to  be  a  thousand !  But 
I  —  I  might  not !  It 's  a  —  rotten  world, 
Eve,"  he  brooded,  "  and  quite  unnecessarily 
crowded  —  it  seems  to  me  —  with  essentially 
rotten  people.  Toward  the  starving  and 
the  crippled  and  the  hideously  distorted, 
the  world,  having  no  envy  of  them,  shows 
always  an  amazing  mercy;  and  Beauty, 
whatever  its  sorrows,  can  always  retreat  to 
the  thick  protecting  wall  of  its  own  conceit. 
But  as  for  the  rest  of  us  ?  "  he  grinned  with 
a  sudden  convulsive  twist  of  the  eyebrow, 
"  God  help  the  unduly  prosperous  —  and  the 
merely  plain!  From  the  former  —  always, 
Envy,  like  a  wolf,  shall  tear  down  every 
fresh  talent,  every  fresh  treasure,  they  lift  to 
their  aching  backs.  And  from  the  latter  — 
Brutal  Neglect  shall  ravage  away  even  the 
charm  that  they  thought  they  had ! 

"  It 's   a  —  a   rotten   world,    Eve,    I   tell 
you,"  he  began  all  over  again,  a  bit  plain- 
167 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

tively.  "  A  rotten  world !  And  the  pains 
in  my  arms,  I  tell  you,  are  not  —  nice! 
Distinctly  not  nice!  Sometimes,  Eve,  you 
think  I  'm  making  faces  at  you !  But,  be 
lieve  me,  it  is  n't  faces  that  I  'm  making ! 
It 's  my  —  heart  that  I  'm  making  at  you ! 
And  believe  me,  the  pain  is  not  —  nice !  " 
Before  the  sudden  wince  in  his  daughter's 
eyes  he  reverted  instantly  to  an  air  of  semi- 
jocosity.  "  So,  under  all  existing  circum 
stances,  little  girl,"  he  hastened  to  affirm, 
"you  can  hardly  blame  a  crusty  old  codger 
of  a  father  for  preferring  to  leave  his  daugh 
ter  in  the  hands  of  a  man  whom  he  posi 
tively  knows  to  be  good,  than  in  the  hands 
of  some  casual  stranger  who,  just  in  a  nega 
tive  way,  he  merely  can't  prove  is  n't  good  ? 
Oh,  Eve  —  Eve,"  he  pleaded  sharply, 
"  you  '11  be  so  much  better  off  —  out  of  the 
world !  You  Ve  got  infinitely  too  much 
money  and  infinitely  too  little  —  self-conceit 
—  to  be  happy  here!  They  would  break 
your  heart  in  a  year!  But  at  Nunko- 
Nono ! "  he  cried  eagerly.  "  Oh,  Eve ! 
Think  of  the  peace  of  it !  Just  white  beach, 
1 68 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

and  a  blue  sea,  and  the  long,  low,  endless 
horizon.  And  John  will  make  you  a  gar 
den  !  And  women  —  I  have  often  heard  — 
are  very  happy  in  a  garden !  And  — " 

Slowly  little  Eve  Edgarton  lifted  her  eyes 
again  to  his.  "  Has  John  got  a  beard  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Why  —  why,  I  'm  sure  I  don't  remem 
ber,"  stammered  her  father.  "  Why,  yes, 
I  think  so  —  why,  yes,  indeed  —  I  dare 
say!" 

"  Is  it  a  grayish  beard  ?  "  asked  little  Eve 
Edgarton. 

"  Why  —  why,  yes  —  I  should  n't  won 
der,"  admitted  her  father. 

"And  reddish?"  persisted  little  Eve  Ed 
garton.  "And  longish?  As  long  as  —  ?" 
Illustratively  with  her  hands  she  stretched 
to  her  full  arm's  length. 

"  Yes,  I  think  perhaps  it  is  reddish,"  con 
ceded  her  father.  "But  why?" 

"  Oh  —  nothing,"  mused  little  Eve  Edgar- 
ton.  "  Only  sometimes  at  night  I  dream 
about  you  and  me  landing  at  Nunko-Nono. 
And  John  in  a  great  big,  long,  reddish-gray 
169 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

beard  always  comes  crunching  down  at  full 
speed  across  the  hermit-crabs  to  meet  us. 
And  always  just  before  he  reaches  us,  he  — 
he  trips  on  his  beard  —  and  falls  headlong 
into  the  ocean  —  and  is  —  drowned." 

"Why  —  what  an  awful  dream!  "  depre 
cated  her  father. 

"  Awful  ?  "  queried  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
"  Ha !  It  makes  me  —  laugh.  All  the 
same,"  she  affirmed  definitely,  "  good  old 
John  Ellbertson  will  have  to  have  his  beard 
cut."  Quizzically  for  an  instant  she  stared 
off  into  space,  then  quite  abruptly  she  gave 
a  quick,  funny  little  sniff.  "  Anyway,  I  '11 
have  a  garden,  won't  I  ?  "  she  said.  "  And 
always,  of  course,  there  will  be  —  Henri 
etta." 

"  Henrietta  ?  "  frowned  her  father. 

"  My  daughter!  "  explained  little  Eve  Ed 
garton  with  dignity. 

"  Your  daughter  ?  "  snapped  Edgarton. 

"  Oh,  of  course  there  may  be  several," 
conceded  little  Eve  Edgarton.  "  But  Hen 
rietta,  I  'm  almost  positive,  will  be  the  best 
one!" 

170 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

So  jerkily  she  thrust  her  slender  throat 
forward  with  the  speech,  her  whole  facial 
expression  seemed  suddenly  to  have  under 
cut  and  stunned  her  father's. 

"  Always,  Father,"  she  attested  grimly, 
"  with  your  horrid  old  books  and  specimens 
you  have  crowded  my  dolls  out  of  my 
steamer  trunk.  But  never  once  — "  her 
tightening  lips  hastened  to  assure  him,  "  have 
you  ever  succeeded  in  crowding  —  Henri 
etta  —  and  the  others  out  of  my  mind !  " 

Quite  incongruously,  then,  with  a  soft  lit 
tle  hand  in  which  there  lurked  no  animosity 
whatsoever,  she  reached  up  suddenly  and 
smoothed  the  astonishment  out  of  her  fa 
ther's  mouth-lines. 

"  After  all,  Father,"  she  asked,  "  now  that 
we  're  really  talking  so  intimately,  after  all 
—  there  is  n't  so  specially  much  to  life  any 
way,  is  there,  except  just  the  satisfaction  of 
making  the  complete  round  of  human  ex 
perience  —  once  for  yourself  —  and  then 
once  again  —  to  show  another  person? 
Just  that  double  chance,  Father,  of  getting 
two  original  glimpses  at  happiness?  One 
171 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

through  your  own  eyes,  and  one  —  just  a 
little  bit  dimmer  —  through  the  eyes  of  an 
other?" 

With  mercilessly  appraising  vision  the 
starving  Youth  that  was  in  her  glared  up  at 
the  satiate  Age  in  him. 

"  You  've  had  your  complete  round  of  hu 
man  experience,  Father ! "  she  cried. 
"  Your  first  —  full  —  untrammeled  glimpse 
of  all  your  Heart's  Desires.  More  of  a 
glimpse,  perhaps,  than  most  people  get. 
From  your  tiniest  boyhood,  Father, 
everything  just  as  you  wanted  it!  Just 
the  tutors  you  chose  in  just  the  subjects  you 
chose!  Everything  then  that  American 
colleges  could  give  you!  Everything  later 
that  European  universities  could  offer 
you!  And  then  Travel!  And  more 
Travel!  And  more!  And  more!  And 
then  —  Love !  And  then  Fame !  '  Love, 
Fame,  and  Far  Lands ! '  Yes,  that 's  it 
exactly!  Everything  just  as  you  chose  it! 
So  your  only  tragedy,  Father,  lies  — 
as  far  as  I  can  see  —  in  just  little  — 
me!  Because  I  don't  happen  to  like  the 
172 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

things  that  you  like,  the  things  that  you  al 
ready  have  had  the  first  full  joy  of  liking, — 
you  've  got  to  miss  altogether  your  dimmer, 
second-hand  glimpse  of  happiness!  Oh, 
I  'm  sorry,  Father !  Truly  I  am !  Already 
I  sense  the  hurt  of  these  latter  years  —  the 
shattered  expectations,  the  incessant  disap 
pointments  !  You  who  have  stared  unblink- 
ingly  into  the  face  of  the  sun,  robbed  in  your 
twilight  of  even  a  candle-flame.  But, 
Father?" 

Grimly,  despairingly,  but  with  unfaltering 
persistence  —  Youth  fighting  with  its  last 
gasp  for  the  rights  of  its  Youth  —  she  lifted 
her  haggard  little  face  to  his.  "  But,  Father ! 
—  my  tragedy  lies  in  the  fact  —  that  at 
thirty  —  I  've  never  yet  had  even  my  first 
hand  glimpse  of  happiness!  And  now  ap 
parently,  unless  I  'm  willing  to  relinquish  all 
hope  of  ever  having  it,  and  consent  to  '  set 
tle  down,'  as  you  call  it,  with  '  good  old 
John  Ellbertson  ' —  I  '11  never  even  get  a 
gamble  —  probably  —  at  sighting  Happi 
ness  second-hand  through  another  person's 
eyes ! " 

173 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"Oh,  but  Eve!"  protested  her  father. 
Nervously  he  jumped  up  and  began  to  pace 
the  room.  One  side  of  his  face  was  quite 
grotesquely  distorted,  and  his  lean  fingers, 
thrust  precipitously  into  his  pockets,  were 
digging  frenziedly  into  their  own  palms. 
"  Oh,  but  Eve ! "  he  reiterated  sharply, 
"  you  will  be  happy  with  John !  I  know 
you  will !  John  is  a  —  John  is  a  —  Un 
derneath  all  that  slowness,  that  ponder 
ous  slowness  —  that  —  that  —  Underneath 
that—" 

"  That  longish  —  reddish  —  grayish 
beard?"  interpolated  little  Eve  Edgar- 
ton. 

Glaringly  for  an  instant  the  old  eyes  and 
the  young  eyes  challenged  each  other,  and 
then  the  dark  eyes  retreated  suddenly  be 
fore —  not  the  strength  but  the  weakness 
of  their  opponents. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  Father,"  assented  little 
Eve  Edgarton.  "  Only  — "  ruggedly  the 
soft  little  chin  thrust  itself  forth  into  stub 
born  outline  again.  "  Only,  Father,"  she 
articulated  with  inordinate  distinctness, 
174 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  you  might  just  as  well  understand  here 
and  now,  I  won't  budge  one  inch  toward 
Nunko-Nono  —  not  one  single  solitary  lit 
tle  inch  toward  Nunko-Nono  —  unless  at 
London,  or  Lisbon,  or  Odessa,  or  some 
where,  you  let  me  fill  up  all  the  trunks  I 
want  tc  —  with  just  plain  pretties  —  to  take 
to  Nunko-Nuno !  It  is  n't  exactly,  you 
know,  like  a  bride  moving  fifty  miles  out 
from  town  somewhere,"  she  explained  pains 
takingly.  "  When  a  bride  goes  out  to  a 
place  like  Nunko-Nono,  it  is  n't  enough,  you 
understand,  that  she  takes  just  the  things 
she  needs.  What  she  's  got  to  take,  you  see, 
is  everything  under  the  sun  —  that  she  ever 
may  need ! " 

With  a  little  soft  sigh  of  finality  she  sank 
back  into  her  pillows,  and  then  struggled  up 
for  one  brief  instant  again  to  add  a  post 
script,  as  it  were,  to  her  ultimatum.  "If 
my  day  is  over  —  without  ever  having  been 
begun,"  she  said,  "  why,  it 's  over  —  with 
out  ever  having  been  begun !  And  that 's 
all  there  is  to  it!  But  when  it  comes  to 
Henrietta,"  she  mused,  "  Henrietta 's  going 

175 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

to  have  five-inch  hair-ribbons  —  and  every 
thing  else  —  from  the  very  start !  " 

"  Eh  ? "  frowned  Edgarton,  and  started 
for  the  door. 

"  And  oh,  Father ! "  called  Eve,  just  as 
his  hand  touched  the  door-knob.  "  There  's 
something  I  want  to  ask  you  for  Henrietta's 
sake.  It 's  rather  a  delicate  question,  but 
after  I  'm  married  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to 
save  all  my  delicate  questions  to  —  ask 
John;  and  John,  somehow,  has  never 
seemed  to  me  particularly  canny  about  any 
thing  except  —  geology.  Father !  "  she 
asked,  "  just  what  is  it  —  that  you  consider 
so  particularly  obnoxious  in  —  in  —  young 
men  ?  Is  it  their  sins  ?  " 

"Sins!"  jerked  her  father.  "Bah! 
It 's  their  traits !  " 

"  So  ? "  questioned  little  Eve  Edgarton 
from  her  pillows.  "  So  ?  Such  as  — 
what?" 

"Such    as    the    pursuit    of    woman!" 

snapped  her  father.     "  The  love  —  not  of 

woman,  but  of  the  pursuit  of  woman!     On 

all  sides  you  see  it  to-day !     On  all  sides  you 

176 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

hear  it  —  sense  it  —  suffer  it !  The  young 
man's  eternally  jocose  sexual  appraisement 
of  woman!  'Is  she  young?  Is  she 
pretty  ? '  And  always,  eternally,  '  Is  there 
any  one  younger?  Is  there  any  one  pret 
tier  ?  '  Sins,  you  ask  ?  "  Suddenly  now  he 
seemed  perfectly  willing,  even  anxious,  to 
linger  and  talk.  "  A  sin  is  nothing,  oftener 
than  not,  but  a  mere  accidental,  non-consid 
ered  act !  A  yellow  streak  quite  as  exterior 
as  the  scorch  of  a  sunbeam.  And  there  is 
no  sin  existent  that  a  man  may  not  repent 
of!  And  there  is  no  honest  repentance, 
Eve,  that  a  wise  woman  cannot  make  over 
into  a  basic  foundation  for  happiness !  But 
a  trait?  A  congenital  tendency?  A  yel 
low  streak  bred  in  the  bone?  Why,  Eve! 
If  a  man  loves,  I  tell  you,  not  woman,  but 
the  pursuit  of  woman?  So  that  —  wher 
ever  he  wins  —  he  wastes  again?  So  that 
indeed  at  last  he  wins  only  to  waste  ?  Mov 
ing  eternally  —  on  —  on  —  on  from  one 
ravaged  lure  to  another?  Eve!  Would  I 
deliver  over  you  —  your  mother's  reincar 
nated  body  —  to  —  to  such  as  that  ?  " 
177 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  O  —  h,"  said  little  Eve  Edgarton.  Her 
eyes  were  quite  wide  with  horror.  "  How 
careful  I  shall  have  to  be  with  Henrietta." 

"  Eh  ?  "  snapped  her  father. 

Ting-a-ling  —  ling  —  ling  —  ling !  trilled 
the  telephone  from  the  farther  side  of  the 
room. 

Impatiently  Edgarton  came  back  and 
lifted  the  receiver  from  its  hook. 
"  Hello  ?  "  he  growled.  "  Who  ?  What  ? 
Eh?" 

With  quite  unnecessary  vehemence  he 
rammed  the  palm  of  his  hand  against  the 
mouth-piece  and  glared  back  over  his  shoul 
der  at  his  daughter.  "  It 's  that  —  that 
Barton ! "  he  said.  "  The  impudence  of 
him !  He  wants  to  know  if  you  are  receiv 
ing  visitors  to-day!  He  wants  to  know  if 
he  can  come  up !  The  — " 

"Yes  —  isn't  it  —  awful?"  stammered 
little  Eve  Edgarton. 

Imperiously  her  father  turned  back  to  the 

telephone.        Ting-a-ling  —  ling  —  ling  — 

ling,  chirped  the  bell  right  in  his  face.     As 

if  he  were  fairly  trying  to  bite  the  trans- 

178 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

mitter,  he  thrust  his  lips  and  teeth  into  the 
mouth-piece. 

"  My  daughter,"  he  enunciated  with  ex 
treme  distinctness,  "  is  feeling  quite  ex 
hausted —  exhausted  —  this  afternoon.  We 
appreciate,  of  course  Mr.  Barton,  your  — 
What  ?  Hello  there !  "  he  interrupted  him 
self  sharply.  "Mr.  Barton?  Barton? 
Now  what  in  the  deuce?"  he  called  back 
appealingly  toward  the  bed.  "  Why,  he  's 
rung  off !  The  fool !  "  Quite  accidentally 
then  his  glance  lighted  on  his  daughter. 
"  Why,  what  are  you  smoothing  your  hair 
for  ?  "  he  called  out  accusingly. 

"  Oh,  just  to  put  it  on,"  acknowledged  lit 
tle  Eve  Edgarton. 

"  But  what  in  creation  are  you  putting  on 
your  coat  for  ?  "  he  demanded  tartly. 

"  Oh,  just  to  smooth  it,"  acknowledged 
little  Eve  Edgarton. 

With  a  sniff  of  disgust  Edgarton  turned 
on  his  heel  and  strode  off  into  his  own  room. 

For  five  minutes  by  the  little  traveling- 
clock,  she  heard  him  pacing  monotonously 
up  and  down  —  up  and  down.  Then  very 
179 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

softly  at  last  she  summoned  him  back  to 
her. 

"  Father,"  she  whispered,  "  I  think 
there  's  some  one  knocking  at  the  outside 
door." 

"What?"  called  Edgarton.  Incredu 
lously  he  came  back  through  his  daughter's 
room  and,  crossing  over  to  the  hall  door, 
yanked  it  open  abruptly  on  the  intruder. 

"  Why  —  good  afternoon !  "  grinned  Bar 
ton  above  the  extravagantly  large  and  lan 
guorous  bunch  of  pale  lavender  orchids  that 
he  clutched  in  his  hand. 

"  Good  afternoon !  "  said  Edgarton  with 
out  enthusiasm. 

"  Er  —  orchids !  "  persisted  Barton  still 
grinningly.  Across  the  unfriendly  hunch 
of  the  older  man's  shoulder  he  caught  a  dis 
quieting  glimpse  of  a  girl's  unduly  specula 
tive  eyes.  In  sudden  impulsive  league  with 
her  against  this,  their  apparent  common  en 
emy,  Age,  he  thrust  the  orchids  info  the 
older  man's  astonished  hands. 

"  For  me  ?  "  questioned  Edgarton  icily. 

"  Why,  yes  —  certainly !  "  beamed  Bar- 
180 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

ton.     "  Orchids,  you  know !     Hothouse  or 
chids  ! "  he  explained  painstakingly. 

"So  I  —  judged,"  admitted  Edgarton. 
With  extreme  distaste  he  began  to  untie  the 
soft  flimsy  lavender  ribbon  that  encom 
passed  them.  "  In  their  native  state,  you 
know,"  he  confided,  "  one  very  seldom  finds 
them  growing  with  —  sashes  on  them." 
From  her  nest  of  cushions  across  the  room 
little  Eve  Edgarton  loomed  up  suddenly 
into  definite  prominence. 

"  What  did  you  bring  me,  Mr.  Barton  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Why,  Eve !  "  cried  her  father.  "  Why, 
Eve,  you  astonish  me !  Why,  I  'm  sur 
prised  at  you!  Why  —  what  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

The  girl  sagged  back  into  her  cushions. 
"Oh,  Father,"  she  faltered,  "don't  you 
know  —  anything?  That  was  just  'small 
talk.'  " 

With  perfunctory  courtesy  Edgarton 
turned  to  young  Barton.  "  Pray  be 
seated,"  he  said ;  "  take  —  take  a  chair." 

It  was  the  chair  closest  to  little  Eve  Ed- 
181 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

garton  that  Barton  took.     "  How  do  you 
do,  Miss  Edgarton  ?  "  he  ventured. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Barton  ?  "  said  lit 
tle  Eve  Edgarton. 

From  the  splashy  wash-stand  somewhere 
beyond  them,  they  heard  Edgarton  fussing 
with  the  orchids  and  mumbling  vague  Latin 
imprecations  —  or  endearments  —  over 
them.  A  trifle  surreptitiously  Barton 
smiled  at  Eve.  A  trifle  surreptitiously  Eve 
smiled  back  at  Barton. 

In  this  perfectly  amiable  exchange  of 
smiles  the  girl  reached  up  suddenly  to  the 
sides  of  her  head.  "Is  my  —  is  my  band 
age  on  straight  ?  "  she  asked  worriedly. 

"  Why,  no,"  admitted  Barton ;  "  it  ought 
not  to  be,  ought  it  ?  " 

Again  for  no  special  reason  whatsoever 
they  both  smiled. 

"  Oh,  I  say,"  stammered  Barton.  "  How 
you  can  dance !  " 

Across  the  girl's  olive  cheeks  her  heavy 
eyelashes  shadowed  down  like  a  fringe  of 
black    ferns.     "  Yes  —  how   I   can   dance," 
she  murmured  almost  inaudibly. 
182 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Why  did  n't  you  let  anybody  know  ?  " 
demanded  Barton. 

"  Yes  —  why  did  n't  I  let  anybody 
know  ?  "  repeated  the  girl  in  an  utter  panic 
of  bashfulness. 

"  Oh,  I  say,"  whispered  Barton,  "  won't 
you  even  look  at  me  ?  " 

Mechanically  the  girl  opened  her  eyes 
and  stared  at  him  fixedly  until  his  own  eyes 
fell. 

"  Eve ! "  called  her  father  sharply  from 
the  next  room,  "  where  in  creation  is  my 
data  concerning  North  American  or 
chids?" 

"  In  my  steamer-trunk,"  began  the  girl. 
"  On  the  left   hand   side.     Tucked   in  be 
tween  your  riding-boots  and  my  best  hat." 
"6  —  h,"  called  her  father. 
Barton  edged  forward  in  his  chair  and 
touched  the  girl's  brown,  boyish  little  hand. 
"  Really,     Miss    Eve,"     he     stammered, 
"I'm  awfully  sorry  you  got  hurt!     Truly 
I    am!     Truly    it    made    me    feel    awfully 
squeamish !     Really   I  've  been   thinking  a 
lot  about  you  these  last  few  days!     Hon- 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

estly  I  have!  Never  in  all  my  life  did  I 
ever  carry  any  one  as  little  and  hurt  as  you 
were!  It  sort  of  haunts  me,  I  tell  you. 
Is  n't  there  something  I  could  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Something  you  could  do  for  me  ?  "  said 
little  Eve  Edgarton,  staring.  Then  again 
the  heavy  lashes  came  shadowing  down 
across  her  cheeks. 

"  I  have  n't  had  any  very  great  luck,"  she 
said,  "  in  finding  you  ready  to  do  things  for 
me." 

"  What  ?  "  gasped  Barton. 

The  big  eyes  lifted  and  fell  again. 
"  There  was  the  attic,"  she  whispered  a  bit 
huskily.  "  You  would  n't  rent  me  your 
attic!" 

"  Oh,  but  —  I  say !  "  grinned  Barton. 
"  Some  real  thing,  I  mean !  Could  n't  I  — 
could  n't  I  —  read  aloud  to  you  ?  "  he  artic 
ulated  quite  distinctly,  as  Edgarton  came 
rustling  back  into  the  room  with  his  arms 
full  of  papers. 

"  Read  aloud  ?  "  gibed  Edgarton  across 
the  top  of  his  spectacles.  "  It 's  a  daring 
man,  in  this  unexpurgated  day  and  genera- 
184 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

tion,  who  offers  to  read  aloud  to  a  lady." 

"  He  might  read  me  my  geology  notes," 
suggested  little  Eve  Edgarton  blandly. 

"  Your  geology  notes  ?  "  hooted  her  fa 
ther.  "  What 's  this  ?  Some  more  of  your 
new-fangled  '  small  talk  '  ?  Your  geology 
notes  ? "  Still  chuckling  mirthlessly,  he 
strode  over  to  the  big  table  by  the  window 
and,  spreading  out  his  orchid  data  over 
every  conceivable  inch  of  space,  settled  him 
self  down  serenely  to  compare  one  "  flower 
of  mystery  "  with  another. 

Furtively  for  a  moment  Barton  sat  study 
ing  the  gaunt,  graceful  figure.  Then  quite 
impulsively  he  turned  back  to  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton's  scowling  face. 

"  Nevertheless,  Miss  Eve,"  he  grinned, 
"  I  should  be  perfectly  delighted  to  read 
your  geology  notes  to  you.  Where  are 
they?" 

"  Here,"  droned  little  Eve  Edgarton, 
slapping  listlessly  at  the  loose  pile  of  pages 
beside  her. 

Conscientiously  Barton  reached  out  and 
gathered  the  flimsy  papers  into  one  trim 
185 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

handful.  "Where  shall  I  begin?"  he 
asked. 

"  It  does  n't  matter,"  murmured  little  Eve 
Edgarton. 

"  What  ?  "  said  Barton.  Nervously  he 
began  to  fumble  through  the  pages. 
"  Is  n't  there  any  beginning  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  No,"  moped  little  Eve  Edgarton. 

"  Nor  any  end?  "  he  insisted.  "  Nor  any 
middle?" 

"  N — o,"  sighed  little  Eve  Edgarton. 

Helplessly  Barton  plunged  into  the  un 
happy  task  before  him.  On  page  nine  there 
were  perhaps  the  fewest  blots.  He  decided 
to  begin  there. 

"  Paleontologically," 
the  first  sentence  smote  him  — 

"  Paleontologically  the  periods  are  characterized 
by  absence  of  the  large  marine  saurians,  Dino 
saurs  and  Pterosaurs  — 

eh?"  gasped  Barton. 

"  Why,  of  course !  "  called  Edgarton,  a 
bit  impatiently,  from  the  window. 

Laboriously  Barton  went  back  and  re- 
186 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

read  the  phrase  to  himself.  "  Oh  —  oh, 
yes,"  he  conceded  lamely. 

"  Paleontologically," 

he  began  all  over  again.  "  Oh,  dear,  no !  " 
he  interrupted  himself.  "  I  was  farther 
along  than  that !  —  Absence  of  marine 
saurians?  Oh,  yes! 

"Absence  of  marine  saurians," 
he  resumed  glibly, 

"  Dinosaurs  and  Pterosaurs  —  so  abundant  in  the 
—  in  the  Cretaceous  —  of  Ammonites  and  Belem- 
nites," 

he  persisted  —  heroically.  Hesitatingly, 
stumblingly,  without  a  glimmer  of  under 
standing,  his  bewildered  mind  worried  on 
and  on,  its  entire  mental  energy  concen 
trated  on  the  single  purpose  of  trying  to 
pronounce  the  awful  words. 

"  Of  Rudistes,   Inocerami  —  Tri  —  Trigonias," 
the  horrible  paragraph  tortured  on  ... 

"  By    the    marked    reduction    in    the  —  Brachio- 

pods  compared  with  the  now  richly  developed 

I87 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Gasteropods    and  —  and    sinupalliate  —  Lamelli- 
branchs," — 

it  writhed  and  twisted  before  his  dizzy  eyes. 

Every  sentence  was  a  struggle ;  more  than 
one  of  the  words  he  was  forced  to  spell 
aloud  just  out  of  sheer  self-defense;  and  al 
ways  against  Eve  Edgarton's  little  intermit 
tent  nod  of  encouragement  was  balanced 
that  hateful  sniffing  sound  of  surprise  and 
contempt  from  the  orchid  table  in  the  win 
dow. 

Despairingly  he  skipped  a   few  lines  to 
the  next  unfamiliar  words  that  met  his  eye. 
"  The  Neozoic  flora," 
he  read, 
"  consists  mainly  of  —  of  Angio  —  Angiosper  — " 

Still  smiling,  but  distinctly  wan  around 
the  edges  of  the  smile,  he  slammed  the 
handful  of  papers  down  on  his  knee.  "  If  it 
really  doesn't  make  any  difference  where 
we  begin,  Miss  Eve,"  he  said,  "  for  Heav 
en's  sake  —  let 's  begin  somewhere  else !  " 

"  Oh  —  all  right,"  crooned  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton. 

188 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Expeditiously  Barton  turned  to  another 
page,  and  another,  and  another.  Wryly  he 
tasted  strange  sentence  after  strange  sen 
tence.  Then  suddenly  his  whole  wonderful 
face  wreathed  itself  in  smiles  again. 

"  Three  superfamilies  of  turtles," 

he  began  joyously.  "Turtles!  Ha! —  I 
know  turtles !  "  he  proceeded  with  real  tri 
umph.  "  Why,  that 's  the  first  word  I  've 
recognized  in  all  this  —  this  —  er  —  this 
what  I  Ve  been  reading !  Sure  I  know  tur 
tles  !  "  he  reiterated  with  increasing  convic 
tion.  "  Why,  sure !  Those  —  those  slow- 
crawling,  box-like  affairs  that  —  live  in  the 
mud  and  are  used  for  soup  and  —  er  — 
combs,"  he  continued  blithely. 

"  The  —  very  —  same,"  nodded  little  Eve 
Edgarton  soberly. 

"  Oh  —  Lordy !  "  groaned  her  father 
from  the  window. 

"Oh,  this  is  going  to  be  lots  better!" 
beamed  Barton.  "  Now  that  I  know  what 
it 's  all  about  — " 

"  For  goodness'  sake,"  growled  Edgar- 
189 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

ton  from  his  table,  "  how  do  you  people 
think  I  'm  going  to  do  any  work  with  all 
this  jabbering  going  on !  " 

Hesitatingly  for  a  moment  Barton 
glanced  back  over  his  shoulder  at  Edgarton, 
and  then  turned  round  again  to  probe  Eve's 
preferences  in  the  matter.  As  sluggishly 
determinate  as  two  black  turtles  trailing 
along  a  white  sand  beach,  her  great  dark 
eyes  in  her  little  pale  face  seemed  headed 
suddenly  toward  some  Ear-Away  Idea. 

"  Oh  —  go  right  on  reading,  Mr.  Bar 
ton,"  nodded  little  Eve  Edgarton. 

"  Three  super  families  of  turtles," 
began  Barton  all  over  again. 

"  Three  superfamilies  of  turtles  —  the  —  the  Am- 
phichelydia,  the  Cryptodira,  and  the  Tri  —  the  — 
Tri  —  the  T-r-i-o-n-y-c-h-o-i-d-e-a," 

he  spelled  out  laboriously. 

With  a  vicious  jerk  of  his  chair  Edgarton 
snatched  up  his  papers  and  his  orchids  and 
started  for  the  door. 

"  When  you  people  get  all  through  this 
nonsense,"  he  announced,  "  maybe  you  '11 
190 


"  You're  nice,"  he  said.    "  I  like  you  ' 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

be  kind  enough  to  let  me  know !  I  shall  be 
in  the  writing-room ! "  With  satirical 
courtesy  he  bowed  first  to  Eve,  then  to  Bar 
ton,  dallied  an  instant  on  the  threshold  to 
repeat  both  bows,  and  went  out,  slamming 
the  door  behind  him. 

"  A  nervous  man,  is  n't  he  ?  "  suggested 
Barton. 

Gravely  little  Eve  Edgarton  considered 
the  thought.  "  Trionychoidea,"  she 
prompted  quite  irrelevantly. 

"  Oh,  yes  —  of  course,"  conceded  Bar 
ton.  "  But  do  you  mind  if  I  smoke?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  mind  if  you  smoke,"  sing 
songed  the  girl. 

With  a  palpable  sigh  of  relief  Barton 
lighted  a  cigarette.  "  You  're  nice,"  he 
said.  "  I  like  you !  "  Conscientiously  then 
he  resumed  his  reading. 

"  No  —  Pleurodira  —  have  yet   been   found," 

he  began. 

"  Yes  —  is  n't  that  too  bad  ?  "  sighed  little 
Eve  Edgarton. 

"  It  does  n't  matter  personally  to  me,"  ad- 
193 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

mitted  Barton.  Hastily  he  moved  on  to  the 
next  sentence. 

"  The  Amphichelydia  —  are  known  there  by  only 
the  genus  Baena," 

he  read. 

"  Two  described  species :  B.  undata  and  B. 
arenosa,  to  which  was  added  B.  hebraica  and  B. 
ponderosa  — " 

Petulantly  he  slammed  the  whole  handful 
of  papers  to  the  floor. 

"  Eve !  "  he  stammered.  "  I  can't  stand 
it!  I  tell  you  —  I  just  can't  stand  it! 
Take  my  attic  if  you  want  to!  Or  my  cel 
lar!  Or  my  garage!  Or  anything  else  of 
mine  in  the  world  that  you  have  any  fancy 
for!  But  for  Heaven's  sake — " 

With  extraordinarily  dilated  eyes  Eve 
Edgarton  stared  out  at  him  from  her  white 
pillows. 

"Why  —  why,  if  it  makes  you  feel  like 

that  —  just  to  read  it,"  she  reproached  him 

mournfully,  "  how  do  you  suppose  it  makes 

me  feel  to  have  to  write  it?    All  you  have 

194 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

to  do  —  is  to  read  it,"  she  said.     "  But  I  ? 
I  have  to  write  it !  " 

"  But  —  why  do  you  have  to  write  it  ?  " 
gasped  Barton. 

Languidly  her  heavy  lashes  shadowed 
down  across  her  cheeks  again.  "  It 's  for 
the  British  consul  at  Nunko-Nono,"  she 
said.  "  It 's  some  notes  he  asked  me  to 
make  for  him  in  London  this  last  spring." 

"  But  for  mercy's  sake  —  do  you  like  to 
write  things  like  that  ?  "  insisted  Barton. 

"Oh,  no,"  drawled  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
"  But  of  course  —  if  I  marry  him,"  she  con 
fided  without  the  slightest  flicker  of  emo 
tion,  "  it 's  what  I  '11  have  to  write  —  all 
the  rest  of  my  life." 

"But — "  stammered  Barton.  "For 
mercy's  sake,  do  you  want  to  marry  him  ?  " 
he  asked  quite  bluntly. 

"  Oh,  no,"  drawled  little  Eve  Edgarton. 

Impatiently  Barton  threw  away  his  half- 
smoked  cigarette  and  lighted  a  fresh  one. 
"  Then  why  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Oh,   it 's   something  Father  invented," 
said  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
195 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

Altogether  emphatically  Barton  pushed 
back  his  chair.  "  Well,  I  call  it  a  shame !  " 
he  said.  "  For  a  nice  live  little  girl  like  you 
to  be  packed  off  like  so  much  baggage  —  to 
marry  some  great  gray-bearded  clout  who 
has  n't  got  an  idea  in  his  head  except  —  ex 
cept — "  squintingly  he  stared  down  at  the 
scattered  sheets  on  the  floor  — "  except  — 
'  Amphichelydia,' "  he  asserted  with  some 
feeling. 

"Yes  — isn't  it?"  sighed  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake ! "  said  Barton. 
"  Where  is  Nunko-Nono?  " 

"  Nunko-Nono  ?  "  whispered  little  Eve 
Edgarton.  "Where  is  it?  Why,  it's 
an  island !  In  an  ocean,  you  know !  Rather 
a  hot  —  green  island!  In  rather  a  hot  — 
blue-green  ocean!  Lots  of  green  palms, 
you  know,  and  rank,  rough,  green  grass  — 
and  green  bugs  —  and  green  butterflies  — 
and  green  snakes.  And  a  great  crawling, 
crunching  collar  of  white  sand  and  hermit- 
crabs  all  around  it.  And  then  just  a  long, 
unbroken  line  of  turquoise-colored  waves. 
196 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

And  then  more  turquoise-colored  waves. 
And  then  more  turquoise-colored  waves. 
And  then  more  turquoise-colored  waves. 
And  then  —  and  then — " 

"  And  then  what  ?  "  worried  Barton. 

With  a  vaguely  astonished  lift  of  the  eye 
brows  little  Eve  Edgarton  met  both  ques 
tion  and  questioner  perfectly  squarely. 
"  Why  —  then  —  more  turquoise-colored 
waves,  of  course,"  chanted  little  Eve  Edgar- 
ton. 

"  It  sounds  rotten  to  me,"  confided  Barton. 

"  It  is,"  said  little  Eve  Edgarton.  "  And, 
oh,  I  forgot  to  tell  you :  John  Ellbertson  is 
—  sort  of  green,  too.  Geologists  are  apt 
to  be,  don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  I  never  saw  one,"  admitted  Barton 
without  shame. 

"  If  you  'd  like  me  to,"  said  Eve,  "  I  '11 
show  you  how  the  turquoise-colored  waves 
sound — when  they  strike  the  hermit-crabs." 

"  Do !  "  urged  Barton. 

Listlessly  the  girl  pushed  back  into  her 
pillows,  slid  down  a  little  farther  into  her 
blankets,  and  closed  her  eyes. 
197 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Mmmmmmmmm,"  she  began,  "  Mmm- 
mmmmmmm  —  Mmmmm  —  Mmmmmmm, 
W-h-i-s-h-h-h !  Mmmmmmmmm  —  Mmm- 
mmmmm  —  Mmmmmmmm  —  Mmmmmm 

—  W-h-i-s-h-h-h !  —  Mmmmmmmm  —  M- 
mmmmmm  — " 

"  After  a  while,  of  course,  I  think  you 
might  stop,"  suggested  Barton  a  bit  creep- 
ishly. 

Again  the  big  eyes  opened  at  him  with 
distinct  surprise.  "  Why  —  why  ?  "  said 
Eve  Edgarton.  "  It  —  never  stops !  " 

"  Oh,  I  say,"  frowned  Barton,  "  I  do  feel 
awfully  badly  about  your  going  away  off  to 
a  place  like  that  to  live !  Really !  "  he  stam 
mered. 

"We're  going  —  Thursday,"  said  little 
Eve  Edgarton. 

"THURSDAY?"  cried  Barton.  For  some 
inexplainable  reason  the  whole  idea  struck 
him  suddenly  as  offensive,  distinctly  offen 
sive,  as  if  Fate,  the  impatient  waiter,  had 
snatched  away  a  yet  untasted  plate.  "  Why 

—  why,  Eve !  "  he  protested,  "  why,  we  're 
only  just  beginning  to  get  acquainted." 

198 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,"  mused  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton. 

"  Why  —  if  we  'd  have  had  half  a 
chance — "  began  Barton,  and  then  didn't 
know  at  all  how  to  finish  it.  "  Why,  you  're 
so  plucky  —  and  so  odd  —  and  so  interest 
ing  ! "  he  began  all  over  again.  "  Oh,  of 
course,  I'm  an  awful  duffer  and  all  that! 
But  if  we  'd  had  half  a  chance,  I  say,  you 
and  I  would  have  been  great  pals  in  another 
fortnight !  " 

"  Even  so,"  murmured  little  Eve  Edgar- 
ton,  "  there  are  yet  —  fifty-two  hours  be 
fore  I  go." 

"What  are  fifty-two  hours?"  laughed 
Barton. 

Listlessly  like  a  wilting  flower  little  Eve 
Edgarton  slid  down  a  trifle  farther  into  her 
pillows.  "If  you  'd  have  an  early  supper," 
she  whispered,  "  and  then  come  right  up 
here  afterward,  why,  there  would  be  two  or 
three  hours.  And  then  to-morrow  if  you 
got  up  quite  early,  there  would  be  a  long, 
long  morning,  and  —  we  —  could  get  ac 
quainted  —  some,"  she  insisted. 
199 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"Why,  Eve!"  said  Barton,  "do  you 
really  mean  that  you  would  like  to  be 
friends  with  me?" 

"  Yes  —  I  do,"  nodded  the  crown  of  the 
white-bandaged  head. 

"  But  I  'm  so  stupid,"  confided  Barton, 
with  astonishing  humility.  "  All  these 
botany  things  —  and  geology  —  and  — " 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,"  mumbled  little  Eve 
Edgarton.  "  That 's  what  makes  you  so 
restful." 

"  What  ?  "  queried  Barton  a  bit  sharply. 
Then  very  absent-mindedly  for  a  moment 
he  sat  staring  off  into  space  through  a  gray, 
pungent  haze  of  cigarette  smoke. 

"  Eve,"  he  ventured  at  last. 

"  What  ?  "  mumbled  little  Eve  Edgarton. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Barton. 

"  Mr.  Jim  Barton,"  ventured  Eve. 

"What?"  asked  Barton. 

"  Nothing,"  mumbled  little  Eve  Edgar- 
ton. 

Out  of  some  emotional  or  purely  social 
tensities  of  life  it  seems  rather  that  Time 
strikes  the  clock  than  that  anything  so  small 
200 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

as  a  clock  should  dare  strike  the  Time.    One 

—  two  —  three  —  four  —  five !  winced  the 
poor  little  frightened  traveling-clock  on  the 
mantelpiece. 

Then  quite  abruptly  little  Eve  Edgarton 
emerged  from  her  cozy  cushions,  sitting  bolt 
upright  like  a  doughty  little  warrior. 

"  Mr.  Jim  Barton !  "  said  little  Eve  Ed 
garton.  "If  I  stayed  here  two  weeks 
longer  —  I  know  you  'd  like  me !  I  know 
it !  I  just  know  it !  "  Quizzically  for  an 
instant,  as  if  to  accumulate  further  courage, 
she  cocked  her  little  head  on  one  side  and 
stared  blankly  into  Barton's  astonished  eyes. 
"  But  you  see  I  'm  not  going  to  be  here  two 
weeks !"  she  resumed  hurriedly.  Again  the  lit 
tle  head  cocked  appealingly  to  one  side.  "  You 

—  you  would  n't  be  willing  to  take  my  word 
for  it,  would  you  ?    And  like  me  —  now  ?  " 

"  Why  —  why,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 
stammered  Barton. 

"What  do  I  mean?"  quizzed  little  Eve 
Edgarton.     "Why,     I     mean  —  that     just 
once  before  I  go  off  to  Nunko-Nono  —  I  'd 
like  to  be  —  attractive !  " 
201 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Attractive  ?  "  stammered  Barton  help 
lessly. 

With  all  the  desperate,  indomitable  frank 
ness  of  a  child,  the  girl's  chin  thrust  itself 
forward. 

"  I  could  be  attractive !  "  she  said.  "  I 
could!  I  know  I  could!  If  I 'd  ever  let 
go  just  the  teeniest  —  tiniest  bit  —  I  could 
have  —  beaux !  "  she  asserted  triumphantly. 
"  A  thousand  beaux !  "  she  added  more  ex 
plicitly.  "Only—" 

"  Only  what  ?  "  laughed  Barton. 

"  Only  one  does  n't  let  go,"  said  little  Eve 
Edgarton. 

"  Why  not?  "  persisted  Barton. 

"  Why,  you  just  —  could  n't  —  with 
strangers,"  said  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
"  That 's  the  bewitchment  of  it." 

"  The  bewitchment  ?  "  puzzled  Barton. 

Nervously  the  girl  crossed  her  hands  in 
her  lap.  She  suddenly  did  n't  look  like  a 
doughty  little  soldier  any  more,  but  just  like 
a  worried  little  girl. 

"  Did  you  ever  read  any  fairy  stories  ?  " 
she  asked  with  apparent  irrelevance. 
202 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Why,  of  course,"  said  Barton.  "  Mil 
lions  of  them  when  I  was  a  kid." 

"  I  read  one  —  once,"  said  little  Eve  Ed- 
garton.  "  It  was  about  a  person,  a  sleep 
ing  person,  a  lady,  I  mean,  who  could  n't 
wake  up  until  a  prince  kissed  her.  Well, 
that  was  all  right,  of  course,"  conceded  lit 
tle  Eve  Edgarton,  "  because,  of  course,  any 
prince  would  have  been  willing  to  kiss  the 
lady  just  as  a  mere  matter  of  accommoda 
tion.  But  suppose,"  fretted  little  Eve  Ed 
garton,  "  suppose  the  bewitchment  also  ran 
that  no  prince  would  kiss  the  lady  until  she 
had  waked  up?  Now  there!"  said  little 
Eve  Edgarton,  "  is  a  situation  that  I  should 
call  completely  stalled." 

"  But  what 's  all  this  got  to  do  with 
you  ?  "  grinned  Barton. 

"  Nothing  at  all  to  do  with  me !  "  said 
little  Eve  Edgarton.  "It  is  me!  That's 
just  exactly  the  way  I  'm  fixed.  I  can't  be 
attractive  —  out  loud  —  until  some  one 
likes  me!  But  no  one,  of  course,  will  ever 
like  me  until  I  am  already  attractive  —  out 
loud !  So  that 's  why  I  wondered,"  she 
203 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

said,  "  if  just  as  a  mere  matter  of  accom 
modation,  you  would  n't  be  willing  to  be 
friends  with  me  now  ?  So  that  for  at  least 
the  fifty-two  hours  that  remain,  I  could  be 
released  —  from  my  most  unhappy  enchant 
ment." 

Astonishingly  across  that  frank,  perfectly 
outspoken  little  face,  the  frightened  eye 
lashes  came  flickering  suddenly  down. 
"  Because,"  whispered  little  Eve  Edgarton, 
"  because  —  you  see  —  I  happen  to  like  you 
already." 

"Oh,  fine!"  smiled  Barton.  "Fine! 
Fine!  Fi — "  Abruptly  the  word  broke  in 
his  throat.  "  What  ?  "  he  cried.  His  hand 

—  the  steadiest  hand  among  all  his  chums 

—  began      to      shake      like      an      aspen. 
"  WHAT?  "  he  cried.    His  heart,  the  stead 
iest  heart  among  all  his  chums,  began  to 
pitch  and  lurch  in  his  breast.     "  Why,  Eve ! 
Eve !  "  he  stammered.     "  You  don't  mean 
you  like  me  —  like  that  ?  " 

"Yes  —  I  do,"  nodded  the  little  white- 
capped  head.     There  was  much  shyness  of 
204 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

flesh  in  the  statement,  but  not  a  flicker  of 
spiritual  self-consciousness  or  fear. 

"  But  —  Eve !  "  protested  Barton.  Al 
ready  he  felt  the  goose-flesh  rising  on  his 
arms.  Once  before  a  girl  had  told  him  that 
she  —  liked  him.  In  the  middle  of  a  silly 
summer  flirtation  it  had  been,  and  the  scene 
had  been  mawkish,  awful,  a  mess  of  tears 
and  kisses  and  endless  recriminations.  But 
this  girl?  Before  the  utter  simplicity  of 
this  girl's  statement,  the  unruffled  dignity, 
the  mere  acknowledgment,  as  it  were,  of  an 
interesting  historical  fact,  all  his  trifling,  pre 
conceived  ideas  went  tumbling  down  before 
his  eyes  like  a  flimsy  house  of  cards.  Pang 
after  pang  of  regret  for  the  girl,  of  regret 
for  himself,  went  surging  hotly  through  him. 
"  Oh,  but  —  Eve !  "  he  began  all  over  again. 
His  voice  was  raw  with  misery. 

"  Why,  there  's  nothing  to  make  a  fuss 
about,"  drawled  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
"  You  Ve  probably  liked  a  thousand  people, 
but  I  —  you  see  ?  —  I  've  never  had  the  fun 
of  liking  —  any  one  —  before !  " 
205 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

"  Fun?  "  tortured  Barton.  "  Yes,  that 's 
just  it !  If  you  'd  ever  had  the  fun  of  liking 
anything  it  would  n't  seem  half  so  brutal  — 
now ! " 

"Brutal?"  mused  little  Eve  Edgarton. 
"  Oh,  really,  Mr.  Jim  Barton,  I  assure  you," 
she  said,  "  there  's  nothing  brutal  at  all  in 
my  liking  —  for  you." 

With  a  gasp  of  despair  Barton  stumbled 
across  the  rug  to  the  bed,  and  with  a  shaky 
hand  thrust  under  Eve  Edgarton's  chin, 
turned  her  little  face  bluntly  up  to  him  to 
tell  her  —  how  proud  he  felt,  but  —  to  tell 
her  how  sorry  he  was,  but  — 

And  as  he  turned  that  little  face  up  to  his, 
—  inconceivably  —  incomprehensively  —  to 
his  utter  consternation  and  rout  —  he  saw 
that  it  was  a  stranger's  little  face  that  he 
held.  Gone  was  the  sullen  frown,  the  indif 
ferent  glance,  the  bitter  smile,  and  in  that 
sudden,  amazing,  wild,  sweet  transfiguration 
of  brow,  eyes,  mouth,  that  met  his  aston 
ished  eyes,  he  felt  his  whole  mean,  supercili 
ous  world  slip  out  from  under  his  feet! 
And  just  as  precipitously,  just  as  inexplain- 
206 


1  Any  time  that  you   people  want   me,"   suggested   Edgarton's  icy 
voice,  "  I  am  standing  here — in  about  the  middle  of  the  floor  !  " 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

ably,  as  ten  days  before  he  had  seen  a  Great 
Light  that  had  knocked  all  consciousness  out 
of  him,  he  experienced  now  a  second  Great 
Light  that  knocked  him  back  into  the  first 
full  consciousness  that  he  had  ever  known! 

"Why,  Eve!"  he  stammered.  "Why, 
you  —  mischief !  Why,  you  little  —  cheeky 
darling !  Why,  my  own  —  darned  little 
Story  Book  Girl !  "  And  gathered  her  into 
his  arms. 

From  the  farther  side  of  the  room  the 
sound  of  a  creaking  board  smote  almost  in 
stantly  upon  their  ears. 

"  Any  time  that  you  people  want  me," 
suggested  Edgarton's  icy  voice,  "  I  am  stand 
ing  here  —  in  about  the  middle  of  the 
floor!" 

With  a  jerk  of  dismay  Barton  wheeled 
around  to  face  him.  But  it  was  little  Eve 
Edgarton  herself  who  found  her  tongue 
first. 

"  Oh,  Father  dear  —  I  have  been  per 
fectly  wise !  "  she  hastened  to  assure  him. 
"  Almost  at  once,  Father,  I  told  him  that  I 
liked  him,  so  that  if  he  really  were  the  dread- 
209 


LITTLE  EVE  EDGARTON 

ful  kind  of  young  man  you  were  warning 
me  about,  he  would  eliminate  himself  from 
my  horizon  —  immediately  —  in  his  wicked 
pursuit  of  —  some  other  lady!  Oh,  he  did 
run,  Father! "  she  confessed  in  the  first  red 
blush  of  her  life.  "Oh,  he  did  —  run, 
Father,  but  it  was  —  almost  directly  —  to 
ward  me ! " 

"  Eh  ?  "  snapped  Edgarton. 

Then  in  a  divine  effrontery,  half  impu 
dence  and  half  humility,  Barton  stepped  out 
into  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  proffered 
his  strong,  firm  young  hand  to  the  older  man. 

"  You  told  me,"  he  grinned,  "  to  rum 
mage  around  until  I  discovered  a  Real 
Treasure  ?  Well,  I  did  n't  have  to  do  it ! 
It  was  the  Treasure,  it  seems,  who  dis 
covered  me !  " 

Then  suddenly  into  his  fine  young  eyes 
flared  up  trie  first  glint  of  his  new-born  soul. 

"  Your  daughter,  sir,"  said  Barton,  "  is 
the  most  beautiful  woman  in  the  world! 
As  you  suggested  to  me,  I  have  found  out 
what  she  is  interested  in  —  She  is  interested 
in  —  ME  !  " 

210 


Eleanor 
Hallowell  Abbott 

Author  of  "Little  Eve  Edgarton,"  "Molly  Make- Believe," 
"The  White  Linen  Nurse,"  "The  Sick-a-Bed  Lady," 
and  many  short  stories,  which  are  always  widely  read  and 
discussed 

"  Eleanor  Hallowell  Abbott,  as  a  writer  of  fiction, 
particularly  of  the  short  story,  has  unique  gifts.  She 
has  not  only  a  story  to  tell,  but  manages  to  tell  it 
with  unusual  versatility,  artistic  expression,  a  clear 
vision  of  what  lies  deepest  in  human  hearts  and  with 
evident  faith  in  humanity's  best  potencies. 

"There  is  a  ripple  of  joyousness  in  life  as  she  sees 
it  in  spite  of  its  imperfections — the  flash  of  a  white 
wing,  however  gray  its  days  or  troublesome  its  sea. 
It  is  this  touch  of  blithesomeness,  this  tuneful  aline- 
ment  of  life,  run  off  in  happy  phrases  and  a  pungent 
humor  which  verges  occasionally  upon  drollery,  that 
gives  to  his  writing  much  of  its  charm  and  distinction. 
More  than  that,  there  is  a  sauciness,  if  one  may  so 
characterize  it,  attaching  to  her  heroines,  which  is  typic 
ally  American  and  irrepressibly  alluring." — Boston 
Herald. 

For  list  of  Eleanor  Hallowell  Abbott's  fiction,  see  next  page 


By  Eleanor  Hallowell  Abbott 

The  White  Linen  Nurse 

Being  the  story  of  how  the  White  Linen  Nurse 
undertakes  General  Heart-work  for  the  Crusty  Senior 
Surgeon  and  the  Naughty  Little  Girl. 

"  Portrayed  with  such  originality  and  cleverness  that  the  reader 
of  the  story  is  compelled  to  admire  the  author  for  her  wonderful 
imaginative  powers.  And  the  love  romance  she  has  woven  around 
and  into  the  lives  of  these  three  is  as  original  and  as  interesting  as 
are  the  character  creations." — Pittsburgh  Chronicle  Telegraph, 

Pictures  by  Pfeifer,     $1.00  net,  postage  6  cents 

The  Sick-a-Bed  Lady 

Stories  of  whimsical,  searching  tenderness;  of  quaint, 
delightful  phrasing;  of  bubbling  humor.  One  must 
read  them  to  gain  any  real  idea  of  the  alluring  charm, 
the  heart-searching  pathos,  the  radiant  joy  of  these 
stories,  in  which  smiles  and  tears  lie  close. 

"Each  is  like  a  miniature,  painted  with  the  finest  strokes  of 
the  brush,  exquisite  in  color  and  perfect  in  drawing." — Bookseller, 
Newsdealer  ana  Stationer, 

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By  Eleanor  Hallowell  Jlbbott 

MOLLY 
MAKE-BELIEVE 

A  whimsical  notion  of  a  plot,  a  charm 
quite  its  own,  plenty  of  happy  nonsense, 
more  than  a  touch  of  pathos,  two  hundred 
and  eleven  pages  of  sheer  delight,  that's 
"  Molly  Make-Believe." 

Not  a  book  of  letters,  but  the  plot  turns, 
in  a  most  novel  and  delightful  fashion,  on 
Molly's  letters — whimsical,  merry,  sympa 
thetic,  teasing,  altogether  adorable. 

Jastfright  pictures  by  Tittle 
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